Tumbling Down
by Springfall
Summary: When Lucy's happiness is compromised for Narnia's well being, she must choose between what is right for her people and what is right for her own heart. An AU Lucy and Tumnus romance.
1. Your Stories and Mine

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter One**

_Your Stories and Mine_

The day was bright and Lucy was smiling as she and Tumnus made their way through the Western Wood. It was the first walk she'd had time for in the past month, and Tumnus was glad to finally have her to himself. All those court meetings, all those feasts and balls—they took a toll on friendship. But today she was his, and that was all that mattered to him right then.

"Tell me again," she begged, and she seemed closer to nine than to twenty-one, "the story of how Aslan sung Narnia into being."

"You've heard it thousands of times," Tumnus began with an indulgent smile as Lucy slowed to walk at his side, blue eyes looking up into his face, "and it's a rather long story."

"Oh," she sighed, "it's my very favorite story, though! And we have time still! We haven't even had lunch yet."

"I don't know why I should tell you," he said, and she pouted her lips. He nearly took her face in his hands, but he contained himself in time.

"I command you to tell me again," she said in a loud, bossy voice. "I am your Queen and you must do all I say."

"Very well," he conceded, and he began the story. The two continued through the wood, his voice clear and strong as he painted again for her the picture of nothing, until Aslan arrived. Before her eyes, a world burst into life. "It was very much like winter changing to spring," he finished the tale the same way he always did.

"It's such a lovely story," Lucy breathed, still in rapture. Tumnus chuckled at the love she had for every tale he told.

"Now you tell me one," Tumnus insisted. "Go on. One you heard when you were a child."

"All those stories are silly," Lucy said dismissively, but Tumnus gently prodded her in the side with his index finger.

"Those are my favorite kind," he said, and she smiled and began one of the stories she loved best. Part of her, he mused, was still a child indeed. He liked that best about her.

"Once upon a time," she began, and this time it was he who listened spell-bound, "there was a little girl whose mother died."

They stepped over fallen trees and muddy patches as she told the story of Cinder-Ella, the girl so abused by her wicked stepmother but who got the Prince in the end. Tumnus tried his hardest to not ask questions; she always laughed at how much he interrupted, how much else he wanted to know about—where did Cinder-Ella come from? What were her stepsisters' names? What color were her eyes? What was the spell the fairy used?

"You ask so many questions," Lucy exclaimed with a smile.

"I like knowing the whole story," Tumnus replied sheepishly.

They stopped for lunch. Tumnus opened the basket he had been carrying; some of the servants of Cair Paravel had packed it for them this morning. They ate together in silence; it always made Tumnus proud, that Lucy would eat before him. He had seen her at public dinners and feasts; she could hardly swallow anything.

"I hate eating in front of crowds," she confided. "It makes me feel as though I'm being judged."

She finished her sandwich first. He watched her mouth move as she chewed and the way her throat flexed as she swallowed. She looked at him oddly.

"Why are you staring at me?" She asked, a strange smile on her lips.

"Am I?" He managed to sound distracted. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." And he sighed internally with relief when she seemed satisfied with that answer.

"It's awfully hot today," she remarked, pouring herself lemonade from the jug packed in their basket.

"Strange weather for so early in spring," Tumnus agreed. Her lips, curled around the rim of her silver cup, were like a flower opening. He felt his mouth open and close without a sound. She didn't seem to notice.

"Shall we go swimming?"

"Now?" Tumnus asked. "The water will be freezing."

"So what?" Lucy asked, a smile on her mouth. "You've got all that fur, you shan't be cold." He winced internally. He hated when she mentioned the difference between them. "Come on. Don't be such a girl."

"Are you insulting your gender again?" He smirked, rising to his hooves as she stood up as well, smoothing her dress. "For shame."

"Whatever you say, Susan," Lucy said with a mocking grin, and when he lunged for her she shrieked and darted away. She went crashing through the brush, laughing, her long golden braid flying behind her as she went. He darted after her.

"Where do you think you're going to?" He shouted after her, his hooves quick amid the leaf litter. "I'm faster than you are."

"Maybe so, goat-man," she sang out somewhere ahead of him, "but I have the advantage of age!"

"Oh, you're asking for it," he shouted again, voice growing hoarse, and he lowered his head as he charged after her, shoving brushwood aside.

He finally caught her at the edge of the trees, where branches began to thin. He reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist, jerking her back towards him. She squealed and writhed in his grasp but she admitted defeat, her heaving chest against his as he held her against her will.

"I told you I would catch you," he said.

"You always do," she replied, completely unapologetic and out of breath. He laughed and released her and the two continued together to the river bank. The water was calmer here as they approached the sandy bank, he a little ways behind her. "Here is good."

"If you say so," he teased, and she turned, sticking out her tongue at him. His nimble fingers found the pins in her hair and he pulled them loose, causing her long braid to fall free. "Good enough. But you'll get your dress all wet."

"No, I won't," she said with a grin, "as I won't be wearing it."

He sputtered uselessly as she stripped unceremoniously down to a camisole and white drawers. "Lucy," he finally said, voice strangled, "what are you doing?"

"Going swimming," she replied, and with that she stepped out into the river and dove under. He sighed, his face red and his stomach tight. He followed her in tentatively, although he would not submerge his head as she did.

She surfaced, tossing back her long hair and gasping for breath. Her blue eyes opened wide, water clinging to the lashes like tears.

"What's the matter?" she asked, treading water. She was out much farther than he had realized and though he knew she was a strong swimmer he was still seized with worry.

"I can't swim," he said lamely. She laughed, and then realized he was serious.

"What, not at all?"

"Not at all." He swallowed, smiled nervously. "I thought you knew."

"No," she said slowly. "You've been swimming with us before."

"I don't swim, though," he said. "I wade."

"I'm sorry," she said, looking like she meant it. "I didn't realize."

"It's quite all right," he assured her. He stood up to his knees in the water, the current lapping around him. "I don't mind watching you."

Thus it was that sunset found them: Tumnus sitting in the water, waves gentle around his chest; Lucy swimming farther out, splashing him, singing. When she got too close, he tugged on her braid sharply. Water nymphs joined the young queen, and their shrieks filtered through the woods. The wind came up but nothing deterred Lucy from the water. Her hair was dark with the water, her skin wrinkling on her hands and feet. Tumnus' own fingers were pruney and finally he stood, shaking the water from his fur, and told her it was time to go.

"Oh, must we?" she protested, but he was firm.

"It's almost dark," he said, and she sighed and swam towards him, and then walked as her feet touched the sandy bottom. She rose out of the river like some kind of goddess, and Tumnus felt himself blushing as she emerged. Noticing his eyes, she giggled and crossed her arms over her chest. She wrung out her braid and tossed it over her shoulder. He helped her button her dress, and taking the basket on his arm, they headed towards Cair Paravel.

He told her stories as they walked—everything he could think of. He made up the last one, for lack of things to say. She was tired, her feet tripping over roots, and he finally took her arm to steady her. Her lids drooped and her eyes were dark. She stumbled up the great marble steps, and he handed her the basket and scooped her up in his arms, swaying precariously with her weight. As always at Cair Paravel, the smell of the ocean was strong, and in the distance he could hear the faint sound of mermen singing out on the water.

He knocked lightly at her bedroom door and her maidservant came out, holding a candle and smiling gently. Tumnus liked Cera. Rosy and lithe, she reflected her mother-tree, and she loved Lucy well. She was a good girl, a little slow, but kind enough.

"I'm returning your Queen, no worse for wear," he said grandly, setting Lucy on her feet.

"I'll get her nightclothes," replied, and went within the chambers again, closing the door partly behind her.

Lucy yawned hugely, and Tumnus steadied her with a hand against the small of her back.

"Thank you for seeing me home," Lucy murmured, sleep threatening to overtake her at any moment.

"I live here too, now," he reminded her, and the two laughed gently together.

"I shall see you tomorrow for tea?" She asked, voice softer than usual, hazy with fatigue.

"Of course," he replied. She seemed to wake a little, and she hesitated before she allowed him to hug her.

"Thank you for spending the day with me," she murmured against his ear as they embraced. "I don't know when I've had a better time." She pulled back slightly and Tumnus felt the ghost of her lips pressing, tentatively, against the corner of his mouth. He pulled back sharply, surprised. She did as well, looking guilty; with a "Well, goodnight," she retreated to her room and left Tumnus quite alone in the hall.

"It seems your day went well." A low voice behind him startled him, causing him to jump and wheel around to face the speaker. For a moment Tumnus thought it was Peter as his rooms lay in that direction, but the footfalls told him differently. "I have no need to ask." The shadowy bulk was vague in the dark hall, but Tumnus knew who stood before him.

"Aslan," Tumnus said humbly, dropping to one knee. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

"I don't blame you," Aslan said gently. "Your eyes were full of our youngest Queen." Tumnus flushed with guilt.

"Every day she seems more royal," he mumbled, by way of excuse. "Sometimes I wonder if she is the same girl I met so long ago." Aslan regarded him calmly with yellow eyes, and chose to not comment.

"The times coming up shall be hard for Cair Paravel," he said finally, after a silence had come over the castle again. Tumnus shifted from hoof to hoof, feeling awkward in the great lion's presence. "Your relationships will be strained. You love will be stretched. But do not fear—for everything will be all right at the season's end."

"What do you mean?" Tumnus' voice was worried. "Will something unfortunate happen to Queen Lucy?"

"Nothing that love can't fix," Aslan said with a smile, and Tumnus blinked and the lion was gone.

Tumnus said nothing before returning to his room for the night. He lay awake, staring at the sea through his open window, and sleep did not claim him though he was sorely tired.


	2. The Trouble with Neighbors

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Two**

_The Trouble with Neighbors_

A hand on her shoulder caused Lucy to fall out of the sweetest dream. She stood upon the white sand of the Eastern Sea and his arm was around her. I love only you, said the faun with brown eyes.

"Love?" asked the intruder, and Lucy opened groggy blue eyes to look upon Susan's worried face.

"Oh," Lucy said, dismayed at reality setting in as her dream slipped away.

"I'm sorry to wake you so early," Susan said, pulling back the long green curtains. "Considering you came in so late." Her smile was poorly hidden. "But I have some grim news that you must take part in."

"News?"

"Trouble with the South," Susan said kindly, pulling a rosy dress out of Lucy's wardrobe. "You must come to the counsel."

"Oh," Lucy groaned, hiding her face in the pillow. "Must I? No one minds if I skip. They all think me young enough."

"This may involve you," Susan said carefully, fetching a hairbrush. She shook out Lucy's tangled golden hair and began unsnarling it. "It is nothing good, Lu. I won't lie."

"What is it, exactly?" Lucy winced as the brush tugged a knot in her hair. "Something dreadful? A murder?"

"Nothing so exciting. Just rumors, as of yet." Susan smiled despite her mood, and set the silver circlet atop her sister's hair.

"Susan," Lucy looked sour.

"You are a queen as much as I am," Susan reminded her gently.

"No," Lucy mused. "I am still only a girl."

"You're nearly twenty-one."

"Still young. You're the Queen. Let me be a child still."

"Not today," Susan said, and Lucy knew it was not a time to joke.

"It must be grave."

"It is not good." Lucy stood and let Susan help her into the dress. "You look lovely. Come."

"I'm coming," Lucy said, taking a long look at the ocean. "It's far too lovely a day to be inside." Outside her window, mermen played in the surf. She longed to join them.

"You must bear it for a while," Susan said. "Then you may go out." The two walked down the long hall. "Aslan will be here," Susan said suddenly.

"Aslan?" Lucy cheered. "I haven't seen him in ages!"

"It will be a treat," Susan smiled, briefly happy to see Lucy thus illuminated. "One good thing, I suppose."

"It is always important to count the good things," Lucy replied.

"Sometimes I feel that you are older than I am," Susan laughed, her blue eyes looking closely at her sister. "You feel all right? Something about you seems different."

"I'm fine," Lucy said serenely, taking Susan's hand. "Cranky you woke me up so early, sister, but fine otherwise."

"Very well," Susan said, placated, and pushed open the door to the throne room. Lucy slipped in beside her and slid the door close.

"Hello, sisters," Peter said warmly from his throne. His blonde hair shone in the sun and Lucy noticed, in relief, that the windows were open. Edmund lounged in his throne, crown askew.

"Lu," he said with a grin, "you were out past curfew."

"I'm a Queen," Lucy said, raising her chin, "I don't have a curfew." Edmund laughed and stood to kiss her.

"Ah, my little sister," he sighed into her blonde hair. "And my cranky big one, I see."

"Shove it," Susan said and slapped his shoulder. "Wanker."

"Language," Peter said severely, and Susan looked at him in surprise.

"You look tired," Lucy murmured to her eldest brother, sitting next to Susan.

"Things kept me up," he smiled briefly, like the sun breaking through clouds.

"Where's Aslan?"

"I am here, Queen Lucy," a deep voice said, and Lucy leapt from her throne to wrap her arms around a strong neck, burying her face in a thick mane.

"I've missed you," she said sincerely, as she let go. Aslan chuckled.

"No need," he reminded her. "I am always here." Lucy settled down again. Aslan looked to Peter. "I hear rumors that disturb my peace."

"So have we all," Peter replied. "There is disorder to the South."

"Archenland?" Edmund asked sharply, and Peter nodded. "Thought so. Bit of rough, really."

"Edmund," Susan said gently, and Edmund subsided.

"Would someone please explain to me what the problem is with Archenland?" Lucy asked, plaintively. "It seems the world passed me by completely yesterday."

"There are whispers of dissent in Archenland," Peter said quietly, his blue eyes on the great lion. "Remnants of the Witch's horde. Rebellion and war are on the wind."

"No," Lucy whispered. "Not after all the peace we've had."

"I'm afraid so," Peter said.

"They are only rumors," Susan said, "do not frighten her unnecessarily."

"She needs to be informed," Peter replied. Aslan nodded.

"The High King is right. Archenland is in unrest. The rulers are new, their father recently died and their mother gone these ten years. We cannot have disruption in this land. I will not allow hate to fester between Narnia and her sisters."

"I don't know what we can do against rebels," Edmund said thoughtfully. "For it is not the government that dissents."

"No," Peter mused. "The Prince and his sister are loyal. They are not the source of turmoil."

"So what is the solution, exactly? Trade embargos? A militia at the ready?" Lucy asked, curious to Aslan's solution.

"No, my dear one," Aslan said. "Force is not the answer."

"What, then?" Edmund sounded impatient.

"Love," Aslan replied.

"Of course, love," Peter muttered. "Always love."

"Love has more clout than violence, Peter," Susan reminded her brother. "You know as well as I."

"Of course," Peter grumbled.

"Your sister is wise, High King," Aslan mediated, and the tension cleared. "I recommend a meeting with Prince Noor and his sister, to negotiate a truce. This is the first rumble of disharmony since the Witch was defeated. It would be a shame to have unrest again. Peace suits Narnia. I suggest a visit to your South, Kings and Queens."

"Well, not all four of us can go," Peter pointed out.

"No," Aslan nodded, "this is true. Susan, you and Peter, as the senior rulers, should go. For though young Lucy is well-loved, she is not as respected, sadly, outside of Narnia. And I fear Edmund is too hot-headed to make a choice. My apologies, Edmund."

"No offense taken, Aslan," Edmund said with a crooked grin. "You're right. I'm no good at making nice."

"That's Susan's job," Lucy said with a smile. Aslan laughed quietly.

"I think you should leave shortly, my dear ones," Aslan addressed Peter and Susan. "The sooner this is resolved, the better. I shall accompany you."

"As you think is best," Peter said. "Do you think it's wise, to leave Ed and Lucy here? Alone?"

"Edmund and Lucy are more than capable of managing this land blindfolded," Aslan replied in a strong voice. "Do not doubt nor insult their competence as rulers. They are no longer children, Peter."

"I apologize," Peter said humbly.

"Do not do so to me," Aslan said shortly. Peter looked meaningfully at his younger siblings.

"It's all right," Lucy said quickly. "I understand. You're just stressed, Peter. You don't mean anything by it."

"I shall pack," Susan declared, leaving the room. Peter followed in silence. Lucy sighed, sitting low in her throne.

"Dear one," Aslan addressed her, softly. "I think the solution may dismay you."

"I value peace more than all else."

"That is not the truth, my dear one," Aslan said, but he didn't seem angry. "You value freedom most."

"This good land is free. I want for nothing."

Aslan looked at her sadly, but did not reply.

"Is there something I should know?"

"Would you give everything up to keep Narnia safe?"

"I am a Queen," Lucy replied. "That is my duty."

"Then everything will be all right," Aslan assured her, though he did not look convinced.

Lucy stood, sighed, looked out to sea.

* * *

Lucy and Edmund were quiet, seeing off the ship carrying their older siblings and Aslan. Edmund put his arm about Lucy's shoulder.

"I'd say you ought to get more sleep," Edmund said, as Lucy stifled a yawn.

"Don't worry, dear brother. I always behave myself." Lucy smiled. Edmund looked shocked.

"Where's the fun in that?" Lucy and Edmund laughed together. "This will be sorted soon. Don't worry."

"I'm not worrying," Lucy replied, her golden hair whipping about in the breeze. "I have nothing to fear."

But in the back of her mind, she wondered.


	3. These Shoulders are Heavy

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Three**

_These Shoulders are Heavy_

The days without Susan and Peter were boring and empty for Edmund. But for Lucy, she didn't know when she had enjoyed Narnia more.

She said so to Tumnus, as she sat on the white beach with him, watching the sun go down. Tumnus' brown eyes focused on her lovely hair, tied up intricately. The wind blew loose curls into her blue eyes. He wanted to tug out the coils, wrap the waves in his fingers, and make her his. She was unreal in that moment. She was infinite.

"Are you all right?" He blinked, and she was Lucy again.

"I'm fine, sorry," he said quickly. "Just a little tired."

"Didn't you sleep?"

"Not so well."

"Why not?"

"Don't you miss your siblings?" He changed the subject, and though she looked at him strangely she let the moment pass.

"Not really," she replied, flopping back onto the sand, arms behind her head. "They're very serious, you know."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Tumnus said thoughtfully.

"I know," Lucy said, "but after a while it does so drag me down."

They fell silent. Tumnus thought of Aslan's prediction of few nights past. He feared something would take Lucy from him, but he didn't really know what, or why he felt so.

"Lucy," Tumnus said suddenly, just in case, "I am awfully glad that you're my friend."

She looked over at him with surprise, her blue eyes the same color as the sky. He closed his eyes briefly, hoping that he'd have melted into hers when he opened them again. But only Lucy's quizzical brow met his gaze, and he sighed with resignation. Nothing so fanciful could happen—and why not? He asked himself, but let it go for another time.

"I'm glad that you're my friend, too, Mr. Tumnus," she said quietly, obviously concerned. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

"I'm sure," he reassured her. She sighed, stretching her legs out, and he plucked the crown off her hair and studied it in the fading light. She smiled and sat up, took it from his lax hands, and placed it in his brown curls. He made a face. "Do I look like a queen?"

"Yes, Susan," she said seriously, and he laughed. Her fingertips brushed the stubs where his horns used to be. "You never did tell me how this happened."

"Just one of the things I gave up for you," he said automatically, then blushed. "For a free Narnia. You know."

"I know. I do wish you didn't have to sacrifice so much," her voice was quiet. "Did it hurt badly?"

"Not as badly as living in fear did," he replied firmly, and she dropped it. He took her hand quietly and patted it. Her skin was soft underneath his and he let his fingertips linger. "I am glad to live in Narnia's Golden Age."

"It was because of you that we came at all," she murmured, allowing him to hold her hand still.

"No, it was destiny," he insisted, and she smiled quietly. The sky began to turn rosy. "Shouldn't we go down to the dock? Your sister and brother should be home any minute."

"Let's stay a bit longer," Lucy said, her eyes on the line where the sky met the ocean. "I do so love this time of day."

"I don't know why you enjoy it so much." Tumnus said with a half-smile. "It's only a sunset."

Lucy replied, "That's why."

"I don't understand," Tumnus sighed.

"You don't have to," she told him, her eyes reflecting all the color of the world. "That's why it's beautiful. It doesn't need a reason. It just is."

_Like you_, he thought, and in that moment—every moment, really—he longed to kiss her.

Instead, he said, "I wish you'd wear your hair down."

She didn't look at him, not to be distracted from the sun setting. "Why?"

"I've never seen you with it down," he replied. "I imagine it is lovely."

"Susan says it's not proper, for a woman to leave her hair loose."

"I like you young," he told her, and she looked at him then and smiled. "I like to remember you the day we met."

"Maybe I will, someday," she said, and he realized that they still clasped hands. "Just for you."

Horns began to sound from not so far away. "That will be your siblings and Aslan," Tumnus said.

"Yes," she sighed, standing up. She dropped his hand (or perhaps he dropped hers) and dusted the sand from her skirts. He gave her the tiara back, and he thought she scowled as she moved to set it upon her hair.

"Let me," he said suddenly, and he put the silver gently upon the crown of her golden head. She looked at him for an unlimited moment, and he noticed how long her eyelashes were. The sun slipped below the horizon, and they walked across the dunes to the port, to receive Susan, Peter, and Aslan home again.

* * *

Susan was first off the ship; amid cheers she sought out her little brother and sister and embraced them warmly.

"It's good to be home," she said, with a wan smile.

Peter looked self-important, Lucy thought, moreso than usual. His beard wanted trimming, but he hugged her with affection. He shook hands gravely with Tumnus; the others laughed and Susan embraced the faun like a brother. Tumnus felt warm, to be loved so well by such good people.

"Have you resolved things with Archenland?" Edmund asked, as the four Pevensies and Tumnus made their way back to Cair Paravel.

"Yes," Peter said, in a tone that made it clear they wouldn't be talking about it while Tumnus was around.

"I should be getting home," Tumnus said loudly, sensing the need for a royal meeting. "I need to get some rest."

"Tea tomorrow?" Lucy asked, giving him her hand to kiss.

"Of course, my Queen," he replied, and his lips lingered against her skin. Only Edmund noticed, but he made no reply. With a smile to the other Kings and Queen, Tumnus retreated to his rooms.

The Pevensies continued in silence to the throne room. Aslan entered shortly after.

"So," Edmund said, eager to have supper, "tell us the news of Archenland."

"The Prince and his sister are competent and just rulers," Peter said, and they could tell he did not exaggerate. "Both Noor and Aleka have sense; good heads on their shoulders. Apparently the news of rebellion is distressing to them as well, and they are eager to align with us. Several rebel groups are causing problems for Archenland's government as well."

"So what have we decided upon?" Lucy questioned, glad that the sovereigns were willing to cooperate.

"Trade is not really an option," Susan said slowly, "since we already have a good system with them. And a militia is the last thing we need if we're unsure where rebellion is coming from. It's possible there are traitors within the government itself."

"So what do you suggest, Aslan?" Edmund looked to the great lion, who cleared his throat and said, kindly,

"Throughout history, kingdoms have strengthened the bond of friendship through blood. Rulers from neighboring countries would marry to solidify alliances—for what country would want to harm a place where its own royalty lived? We have decided that marriage is the best way to maintain a strong friendship with Archenland. They are a strong country and they've got many valuable resources: not just concerning currency and trade goods, but Archenland boasts strength agriculturally and militarily as well. It is a good solution. Noor and Aleka are both eager to begin families."

"What does that mean for us?" Edmund asked slowly, not daring to look at Lucy. Lucy remained silent.

"Peter, obviously, will not be able to marry," Aslan said in the same tone, "as he is bound to Narnia." Lucy and Edmund both remembered well the ceremony three years ago, when Peter promised to be completely devoted to his people; by "marrying" Narnia, he pledged his complete life to ruling. "And Susan, as you know, is already being courted by a prince from the Western islands. Edmund courts a girl from the North."

"Which leaves Lucy," Susan said in a small voice.

"Lucy, my dear one," Aslan finally addressed the girl looking pale in her throne. "It is a good solution to this dilemma. And Noor is a good man—handsome, kind, rich. He has agreed that you might stay in Narnia; Aleka is more than capable of ruling Archenland, and she has many suitors of her own. Noor can offer you everything you want; and you've always wanted a family."

"Is this the best answer?"

"Yes."

"And Narnia will benefit?"

"Wholly and eternally," Aslan responded promptly. Lucy sighed.

"As long as I may stay here with my brothers and sister," she said after a long silence, "I give my consent."

"Oh, Lu," Edmund whispered, but Lucy shook her head.

"Excellent," Peter said, clapping his hands sharply and causing Susan to jump. "That's settled, then. I shall go at once and write a letter to Noor, telling him he must come and meet his fiancé as soon as he might." Peter rose and strode quickly from the room. Aslan bowed and exited after the High King.

"Lucy," Susan said at last, her voice trembling, "it's a very good way to fix this problem—"

"I know," Lucy said shortly. "Now I must get to sleep. Goodnight." She rose and hurried from the throne room, her eyes on the floor.

Edmund turned to Susan.

"This is a mistake," he said firmly, blue eyes hard.

"Ed," Susan said weakly, "don't be like that."

"This will not end well, and I'm ashamed that you and Peter—and Aslan too!—are sacrificing Lucy for it." Edmund's voice was low and dangerous. "Perhaps I should have gone after all."

"Maybe she'll really like him," Susan said desperately.

"I doubt it," Edmund said shortly, and he left Susan quite alone.

* * *

Lucy sat on the edge of her bed and sent out Cera for the night. Whenever a knock sounded (and that was quite often), she did not respond to it.

"I will speak to you in the morning, please," was all she said to the frequent callers (whoever they were). She was left, finally, in peace, and it was only then that she allowed herself to cry.


	4. The Weight of us Both

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Four**

_The Weight of us Both_

The next day, Lucy did not leave her rooms until tea-time; she avoided the throne room or anywhere else she suspected her siblings to be. She put on a plain brown dress and pinned up her long braid. Making sure none occupied the hallway, she slipped down to Tumnus' rooms rather unnoticed (she suspected the servants were going out of their way to give her space). She arrived quicker than usual.

She opened the door with a creak and stepped in, closing it rather hard behind her. Tumnus clattered loudly in the kitchen; she heard him singing under his breath and a teakettle whistle. Despite her mood, she smiled broadly. At least there was one place she still was safe.

Tumnus stopped, hearing the door slam. He poked his head from around the corner.

"Lucy?" he called.

"Yes," her voice called back. He smiled, ran his hands through his thick hair, and set the kettle on a silver tray, next to two cups on saucers and sardines on toast. He entered the main room where Lucy sat on a high-backed chair before the hearth. Something was wrong, he could sense it immediately. Though her smile was wide, her face was pinched and drawn. Something had happened, and he didn't know what. He frowned, looking at her. "I almost expected to see you in an apron."

"What happened?" he dismissed her attempt at a joke.

"Nothing's happened." She did not look at him; her blue eyes focused on the wall behind him. "Sardines, excellent."

"Lucy." He sat down across from her and took her hands, leaning forward, arms stretched over the tray. "Something's happened."

"Nothing important." She pulled her hands free from his. "Can't we just have a nice tea?"

He looked pained. "It'll make you feel better to talk about it. I never thought you'd keep something from me."

"Am I not allowed to have my secrets?" Her voice was high and he looked at her in a panic. "Am I to always be treated as a child? Does everyone know what's best for me?" She looked desperate and near-tears. Tumnus had only seen her cry once (the day he woke up, flesh and blood again, her face was wet as she caught him) and the look on her face disturbed him. "I'm not incompetent! I can govern my own life, if nothing else, can't I?"

"Lucy!" he said, voice rising at her distress as it passed into him. "Please, tell me what the matter is!"

"No," she said, her voice hitching. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"I thought you were my friend," he said softly, sitting back. She realized how hurt he was, his brown eyes unguarded and sorrowful. "I want to help, if I can. Even if just to add my sympathies and support."

"There's nothing you can do, Mr. Tumnus," she said finally, fighting down a sob. "It's just been a very long night. Let's have tea, yes? Tea." She picked up the china teapot, pouring it with shaking hands. Tea splashed out of the cup, soaking the tray and splattering onto the toast. "Oh, damn. I'm so sorry—let me fetch a towel—" She rose, distracted, but stopped in confusion when Tumnus reached out and grabbed her wrist none too gently.

"Lucy," he said in a low voice, and her face crumpled, earth crumbling apart. She sucked in a noisy breath bravely, trying not to cry before him, but when he pulled her down onto his lap, she broke down before him, throwing her arms about his neck and burying her face in his chest. He held her gently, as he would a child, patting her back as she wept. He felt like crying himself. He was unused to this strong young woman being incapable of dealing with a situation. Whatever it was, it was grim indeed. "Tell me what's wrong, please. It bleeds my heart dry to see you in such agony."

"I am getting married," she gasped against his skin, and at first he did not understand. "I am getting married." Her hands tangled in the fur over the ridge of his spine. "I am getting married." Horror struck him, all at once, and his lungs stopped working. He coughed, suddenly, violently. She did not notice.

"Yes?" he managed, his mind dimly wrapping around the concept. "To whom?"

"Some dreadful Prince—all for peace! All for Narnia!" Her voice was a howl, keen and sharp, and he cradled her in comfort and with the instinct to hush her, to protect her privacy in this naked state. "I don't know him—I certainly don't love him. Oh, it's all wrong, Mr. Tumnus, it's all so—so…" she lost strength to speak as a sob wracked her body, her limbs trembling as she held onto him for dear life. "I don't want to get married to him. I don't want to have anything to do with him! It isn't fair! Susan's the beautiful one, and she's far older and wiser! I don't want to marry him!"

"Shh, shh," was all Tumnus could say as his heart broke. "You mustn't be so hopeless. Surely you can refuse?"

"I've already said yes," Lucy wailed, finally looking Tumnus in the face. Her eyes were swollen and her eyelashes clumped together with tears, her face very red. Her hair was tangled and he realized she did not wear her crown. Her makeup must have been from the night before, so smeared and rubbed out it was. He had never seen her so lost. Not in ten years, or more. It made him fear for the future of Narnia, to see her so. "Oh, I'm so foolish, Mr. Tumnus."

"You're not foolish at all, my Queen," Tumnus replied earnestly, reaching to the knot of his scarf and grabbing the handkerchief she had given him. He always kept it with him, as a token of her, and he was thankful to have it now. He mopped her face gently, pushed back her loose hair. He adjusted a hairpin bent askew. "You're anything but. And you are far lovelier and wiser than your sister, in my opinion."

"I hold your opinion very highly," she said, trying to smile. He laughed, and it seemed to relieve some of her grief.

"You ought to, in this case," Tumnus assured her he told the truth. "You are a great Queen, and you must have felt that this was the best choice. Though I do think it's dreadful they're not giving you any other," he added darkly. "I assume this is the treaty they made with Archenland." Lucy nodded. "Sometimes I question the wisdom of Aslan."

"You mustn't say that!" Lucy looked shocked.

"Well, I do," Tumnus said heavily, wiping her eyes with the pad of his thumb. Her eyelids drooped briefly and he recognized she was exhausted. "He hasn't the right, as you said. You should choose your own partner. Marriage is forever, and forever—well; it's an awfully long time."

"I have to marry him," she said softly, as he continued to stroke her hair. She took her arms from around his neck, and he felt lost, but she remained close to him. "I must do what is in the best interest of Narnia."

"You are Narnia, as far as I'm concerned. You must do what is best for you."

"When I rule so many," Lucy shook her head, "I cannot afford to be selfish. If it were you, what would you do?"

"I suppose I'd be selfish," he said thoughtfully. "But then again, I am not you. You are a gift, Lucy. You are a rare bird and it's cruel to confine you so."

She rested her cheek against his chest again. "I don't want to go back there, to where they are all. They all expect so much of me."

"That is because they know you are the heart of this place," Tumnus told her, meaning every word. "More than Peter, more than Susan or Edmund—more even than Aslan. You are Narnia, Lucy. You are a dream and a reality, and you are a promise. You are this place. Not the other way around."

"I knew you'd be on my side," she murmured, slipping into sleep. He was relieved she ceased to cry.

"I will always be on your side," he promised. "Always. You can rely on that, if nothing else."

"Thank you," she sighed, and she fell asleep cradled in his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her fair hair, head reeling. He burned with anger and sorrow. He hummed the tune of the Narnian lullaby that she loved best, unable to think of what else he might do. He could not leave her now.

"Ah, my love," he crooned mournfully, rough hands stroking her hair. "What will become of us? From now on, and this instant as well?" She breathed, shallow and even, in the circle of his protective arms. "Not that there really is an "us". There's just you and I. Oh, Lucy. You shouldn't have to be a queen if this is what it ends up meaning."

He stood, after a long time with her pillowed against him, and brought her to his bed. He drew the curtains to keep out the sun; he tucked his quilt around her, left a candle on the bedside. He sat for a long moment, head full of her, and then stood suddenly, his stomach pitching angrily. He staggered from the room, hooves sharp on the stone floor, and barely made it to the basin of his sink before he vomited, painfully. The retching shook his frame and tore at his throat, as he was sick from all the injustice of the situation. He gasped for breath and, when his emotions had settled, emptied the basin and drew a long drink of water for himself. He sat shakily down in the chair by the fire.

"What will become of us?" he asked again, but the fire did not respond.

5


	5. The World For You

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Five**

_The World For You_

It was all too soon that a ship arrived at the Eastern Port, bearing from the South gifts, news and the bridegroom-to-be. Lucy had to be very nearly dragged from her room to meet him; though endless preparations had been made, she still felt slow and ugly as they waited for the ship to moor and for the Prince to disembark.

"Smile, Lucy," Susan urged her little sister, tilting the circlet back a little on Lucy's head. "You must at least pretend to be welcoming."

"Of course," Lucy said in a hollow voice, faking a brilliant smile. Her scalp hurt from all the adornment; her golden hair was pulled back tight, braided beautifully, and shining like wealth in the noon light. Her face was heavy and thickly caked with makeup; her lips were pink and her freckles invisible. Her eyelashes were heavy and black with mascara. "Is this better?"

"You are a jewel," Susan gushed, squeezing her hand. Lucy was cold, even in the sunshine. She could feel Tumnus' presence behind her. She had insisted on his coming; though she knew he would support her, she ached to stand at his side and have his hand in hers, watching a Prince for Susan coming in. Nothing was working out like she had dreamed it would be.

"Thank you," Lucy replied automatically. Peter stood on her other side, Edmund beyond him, looking rather irate. Lucy couldn't imagine why. The ship was tied up and a plank lowered. An entourage of servants scurried off, all of them tanned and dark-haired. Lucy was unimpressed. She stood, impassive, as a tall man stooped and stepped onto the dock amid cheers and waving handkerchiefs.

She blinked suddenly; she hadn't realized he was already before her. His face was tanned and his goatee neat. His eyes were a very deep blue, and his teeth were white and strong in his smiling mouth. He was handsome, with a strong nose and arched black brows; his hair was thick and wavy, not much longer than Peter's. His jaw was sure and his shoulders broad; he wore rich clothing in bright hues. She longed for gray hooves and slender, callused hands. He wore a ring set with a green stone on his index finger.

"My dear Queen Lucy," he said in a smooth, deep voice, taking her hand. She allowed him to kiss it. "You are even lovelier than I had hoped you to be."

"Welcome to Narnia, Prince Noor," she said in a voice much more formal than she thought she had in her.

"I am indeed welcome," he grinned, looking about him. "What lovely citizens here! And so friendly."

"We keep our friends close," she said, without realizing it. She felt brown eyes on her back. "Surely you are tired after such a long journey."

"More hungry, actually," he said, and she realized he was teasing her. "Shan't you feed a guest?"

"Of course we will," she said snappishly, and suddenly she was smiling back at him. "You would like to freshen up, of course. Before a great feast and dancing."

"Is every event in Narnia large and well-attended?"

"Yes, of course," she said, pushing back a loose golden lock of hair. "A greater love for parties no land has ever had."

"Lead the way to the castle," he said grandly, giving her a sweeping bow. She smiled again, despite herself. Noor took Lucy's arm and allowed her to guide him up. Susan beamed enthusiastically. Lucy smiled back, and as she did so she turned and her eyes fell on Tumnus.

He looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks. His face was ashen, drawn and grim; his eyes were sunken and dull. His hair was wild in the stiff ocean air. He looked out of place, in his bright red muffler; the sun caught the broken horns, unhidden by his curls. His beard was scraggly, unkempt and rather mangy. He looked terribly beastlike—nothing like the proper, quiet faun she knew. At times, she hadn't even remembered he was not human. She remembered now.

He managed a weak smile, but she could tell his heart was not in it. As she passed him, she reached out for him. He caught her hand, eyes still flat with despair.

"Dance with me tonight," she demanded, and she knew with his hand in hers how much she needed him.

"Every one I save for you," he told her as she was pulled away from him. "Whichever one you like, I will be there waiting."

"My dear friend," she managed to say, before their hands were wrenched apart by distance and she lost sight of him. No one, no matter how handsome, could ever replace him. The knowledge made her heart sink. There was no hope of happiness for her. Not any more.

* * *

She was ready for the evening before anyone else; she did not change dresses, much to Susan's frustration. She did not speak much during the feast, nor did she eat, though both Susan and Noor tried to engage her. She insisted that Tumnus be allowed to sit at their table at the feast; she ignored Peter's objections and, backed by Edmund, Tumnus joined the Pevensies and their guest. He sat directly next to Lucy. Once, during the meal, Peter asked Lucy why she seemed to be having a hard time managing her silverware as she moved the food around on her golden plate.

"You must be imagining things, Peter," she said lightly, squeezing Tumnus' hand under the table.

And though Noor held his hand out to her for the first dance, he found (to his dismay) that her arms were already about the neck of that rather awkward faun. He moved well, for someone part-animal, Noor thought, watching him turn Lucy about the room. Still, though, if he could not dance with his fiancé, he could at least admire her from afar.

"So," Edmund was next to Noor suddenly. "What do you think of my sister?"

"She is beautiful," Noor said sincerely. Edmund tried not to frown.

"Yes, she is," he agreed. "You'd better treat her right, or I'll have everything you love destroyed."

"Excuse me?" Noor said, turning to look at Edmund, but the King was gone.

The rest of the night, he spun Lucy; the youngest Pevensie was his for each dance. Noor tried to see if any looked dismayed; all the Narnians seemed pleased enough. He caught the faun staring once, face pale and eyes hard, but the next time Noor looked for him he was no where to be found. Noor found he didn't mind the absence. There was something strange between the Queen and the lowly creature, and though he couldn't place it, he wondered.

Lucy excused herself early, complaining of a headache. Noor took her hand and kissed it gently.

"It has been an honor, my queen," he said in a voice he imagined to be sultry and romantic.

"Yes," she replied absently, beating a hasty retreat. Peter looked livid, and Edmund smug. Susan was Noor's partner for the last few dances (her beau was taken ill and unable to come). She made him laugh, and he wondered why it wasn't she he was engaged to.

As the rest of the guests trickled home, Noor said to Peter: "Your sisters are certainly the most charming creatures."

"Yes," Peter replied quietly, his blue eyes fixed on Susan as she laughed and bade the company farewell. "I think so too."

* * *

Lucy sat down heavily on her bed, flinging her crown onto her bedside and ripping her hair down roughly. Cera looked alarmed as she came in with fresh water for Lucy to wash her face.

"Are you all right, my queen?" the young dryad asked, pushing a strand of rosy hair out of her eyes. She set the pitcher down on Lucy's bedside and retrieved the circlet, setting it on the vanity. "You look awful."

"I feel awful," Lucy said quietly, standing up and going out onto her balcony. As the queen stood looking out to sea, Cera placed a nightgown on Lucy's bed.

"Shall I help you to change?"

"Cera," Lucy said after a long moment, leaning upon the ivory railing, "have you ever wanted something so badly you could hardly bear it?"

"Yes," Cera replied, "I once wanted a new dress and my mother wouldn't buy it for me. I was inconsolable." Lucy turned around with a smile. "I was only seven."

"I feel as though I'm dying," Lucy said miserably. Cera drew the curtains on the bay windows in Lucy's room, when she turned, on her lips there was the ghost of a smile.

"That's how you know it's love," replied the dryad. "Goodnight." She left Lucy looking stunned, closing the French doors behind her.

* * *

Cera passed Edmund on his way in for the night. "Your sister is quite passionate, King Edmund," she said with a smile. Edmund turned to look at her. "I'm pleased that the engagement suits her. I was worried she would resent being forced into it." Edmund didn't reply, and Cera passed him by. He watched her go, and then sighed, leaning against the wall heavily. He ran his hands through his hair.

"Damn it," he said.

* * *

It was late the next morning when Noor knocked on the door to Peter's study. He had been watching Lucy as she prepared for tea with the faun; he had seen clearly Tumnus' eyes the night before. He knew what the name for the unease in the pit of his stomach was, for certain.

"Come in," Peter's voice came from the dark room.

Noor entered and Peter smiled warmly to him. "Ah, Prince Noor. How are you enjoying your stay?"

"Very much, King Peter," Noor smiled easily in return. "But I'd like to talk to you about something which concerns me."

"Speak," Peter replied, closing the large account book he was making notes in.

"I have noticed the close friendship between your youngest sister and a certain faun," Noor began.

"Yes," Peter confirmed, "Mr. Tumnus. They have been the best of friends since we first came to Narnia, years ago."

"Yes," Noor said. "They do seem close. Almost…inappropriately so." He chose his words carefully. "I do not believe the feelings between them to be entirely platonic."

"What do you mean?"

"The faun clearly cares very _deeply_ for Queen Lucy," Noor emphasized. Peter was quiet.

"I have noticed something odd between them lately, as well," Peter was thoughtful. "What would you have me do? Shall I speak to Lucy?"

"I would prefer they not be alone together," Noor said, trying to look concerned for Lucy's honor. "It would be simply dreadful if something…_improper_ should occur."

"Prince Noor," Peter said sternly. "Neither my sister nor Mr. Tumnus are like that. They are entirely appropriate."

"Sometimes emotions can get the best of us," Noor said quietly. Peter considered this.

"Very well," he said, after a long moment. "I will tell Lucy no more of these private teas and walks. Of course they may spend time together around Queen Susan, or King Edmund, or myself—or even in your own company."

"I would certainly enjoy getting to know both of them better," Noor said gracefully.

"That's settled, then. Thank you for thinking of my sister's honor," Peter sighed, and Noor bowed as he left, pleased with himself. Peter had just opened his book again when Edmund threw open the door.

"Something's the matter with Lu," he announced, shutting the door behind him.

"Not more about Lucy," Peter groaned. Edmund looked confused, waiting for an explanation. "Noor has already been in with a complaint."

"What can he possibly have to complain about her?"

"He says she spends too much time with Mr. Tumnus. He doesn't think it proper."

"That's bollocks."

"We mustn't anger him. This marriage is about union, not splintering everything to pieces."

"So what are you going to do?"

"What else can I?" Peter replied, taking up his quill. "She just can't be alone with him any more, that's all. They can still have tea, with an escort, of course. Just nothing unsupervised anymore." Edmund looked shocked at first; his expression quickly melted to one of barely concealed anger.

"She's going to kill you."

"No, she won't. She's a big girl, Ed. She'll understand."

"She is not going to condone a chaperone, Peter! She is going to hate it, and she's going to rebel."

"Lucy's not like that."

"You don't even know her," Edmund spat. "You're too busy being a king to remember your family."

"Someone in this family needs to act like a ruler," Peter said shortly. Edmund's blue eyes were hard.

"This is going to blow up in your face. You are insulting your youngest sister—who, might I add, idolizes you and always has—and you are breaking her trust and respect for you. You won't be able to get it back." Edmund paused for breath, trying not to yell. "You are destroying your relationship with her."

"Lu's not irrational, Ed. She'll get over it. She doesn't know what's best for her. She's only a child"

"She's twenty-one, for Aslan's sake! I think she knows better than you."

"Oh, Ed," Peter cried, exasperated. "What am I to do? I can't antagonize the very Prince I'm trying to align with."

Edmund stared at his older brother for a long moment.

"If you do this, it won't be just Lucy who will no longer respect you." he said shortly, turned on his heel, and left the study. The door closed with a bang.

Peter sighed, stiffened his shoulders, and went back to copying tiny figures into the book.


	6. His Other Life

**Author's Note: **After some consideration I've decided to post this. It's no more graphic than a later chapter and people are having a hard time with the link. Love scene ahead.**  
**

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Six**

_His Other Life_

Lucy was soaking in a late-night bath, reading a large book she had borrowed from Mr. Tumnus by candlelight, when a knock came at her door.

Cera looked into the bathroom, rosy eyes curious.

"See who it is," Lucy told her, without looking up.

"Your sister, Queen Lucy," Cera's voice came from the bedroom.

"Tell her I'm busy," but Lucy sighed when she heard the door pushed open anyway and Susan stood in the bathroom, wearing a silk robe and a long white nightgown. Her long black hair was loose and, for a moment, Lucy didn't recognize her.

"Why are you still up?" Susan asked, seeming to be distracted.

"I couldn't sleep," Lucy replied, grateful for the thick foam that hid her body from view. She set _Is Man a Myth?_ down on the table by her tub.

"What are you reading?"

"Something Mr. Tumnus lent me," Lucy replied, and Susan's face faltered. Lucy immediately knew something was wrong. "Are you all right?"

Susan leaned back in the chair Cera had brought and hiked up her skirts. She put her feet into Lucy's bath. "Susan," Lucy looked disapproving, but her sister didn't move her feet. "You may go, Cera," Lucy called, and she waited for the door to click closed, she leveled her blue eyes at Susan. "Spill it."

Susan twisted the hem of her robe in her fingers. "What do you think of Noor?"

Lucy shrugged, her long blond hair in a knot on top of her head. "I don't know. He's all right. He seems rather cocky. He's not my type."

"What is your type, dear?" Susan asked, and her ice-blue eyes were bleary for some reason.

"I don't know," Lucy looked out the window, at the low-hung moon. "I like dark eyes." Eyes like looking down a well, she thought, and she shivered just imagining his eyes on hers like Noor's had been. "And not so tall."

"With curly hair?" Susan asked quietly, and before Lucy really registered she replied "Yes, exactly." Susan sighed.

"You must marry Noor," she explained, "so you might as well get these foolish notions of someone else out of your head."

"There is no one else," Lucy snapped. Susan began braiding her long black hair.

"I was just talking to Peter," Susan said quietly.

"And?"

"And he asked me to tell you something."

"Let's hear it, then," Lucy said shortly, "so I may get back to my bath. Probably something horrid and unbearable."

"He says you must not see Mr. Tumnus any more."

Lucy blinked, and looked at her sister for a moment in confusion. Then she laughed.

"Very good."

"He is quite serious. It seems Prince Noor thinks that…well, he was under the impression that Tumnus' intentions—and perhaps yours as well—are not entirely innocent."

"That is rubbish," Lucy said finally, her knees above the water like islands, "and you know it. Peter knows it!"

"I know," Susan said with a sigh. "I tried to tell him he was being stupid. Edmund is very upset with him, you know. He thinks this very unfair."

"It is. But I am doing it for my country. I will not, however, give up my dearest friend for Peter or for Noor—I won't give him up for Narnia. Why does Noor think such things about me?"

"Because you are very close, Lucy," Susan said. "You cannot deny that."

"No closer than you and your friends," Lucy snapped, "or Edmund and his or Peter and his. It's just because I'm the youngest! It isn't fair at all!" Lucy's voice was rising in strength.

"Well, you may visit him with a chaperone," Susan said desperately, trying to smile. "It's not so bad."

"That is absolutely unacceptable," Lucy flared up, blue eyes like fire. "That is impossible and I will not do it."

"You must, Lucy."

"I refuse."

"You cannot!" Susan had finally snapped, and the usually gentle Queen shouted at her sister in frustration. Lucy looked surprised. "You must do as Peter says because he is High King, and he must please this Prince Noor in order for us to have peace. You will do as Peter has decided, and I will have no more of your immature protest. We have decided."

"Susan," Lucy was incredulous. "You can't agree with him!"

"I agree with keeping Narnia at peace," Susan said firmly. "I will leave you. Shall I send Cera back in?"

"No," Lucy said with hate in her voice. "And you are not welcome back any time soon, either. Nor is Peter."

"And what about Edmund?"

"Edmund may come if he proves to have less of a vice around his heart," Lucy spat at her sister with venom, and Susan looked hesitant for a moment. "You have no love for any man, friend or otherwise. You do not understand what it feels like. Get out, Susan. You disgust me. You have no concept of friendship. I dislike Noor, but that it on principle. It is you and Peter whom I loathe. I can't bear the sight of you. Get out of my rooms—and you must obey, for in case you forgot I am a Queen as much as you."

Susan got up and left, without a word, looking as though she might cry. Lucy hoped she would.

Lucy took a deep breath and slid underneath the water in her tub.

The silence enveloped her, and, except for her heartbeat, nothing else existed in that moment. She kept her eyes closed.

She opened her mouth and screamed until she ran out of oxygen and her lungs folded in.

She surfaced, gasping. Her eyes stung and her jaw ached. She stood up out of the water, grabbing her towel and drying off quickly. She slipped into her room and pulled on a plain cotton dress, soft brown boots, and she opened the window and inhaled the night air. She looked out over Narnia and something caught her eye.

Not so far away—Lucy estimated about an hour or two walking—a bonfire blazed. Shouting and singing and music drifted lazily through the woods towards her.

She grinned, and, pulling her long hair down from the knot on her head, she shimmied down the balcony and out into the forest.

* * *

One thing Mr. Tumnus had taught her was how to walk without noise in the forest. She kept listening for the music, pushing aside green branches. The night was warm, for autumn, and she vaguely remembered stories she had heard of the feasts and festivals that took place on the Autumnal Equinox—before Susan's party overshadowed everything else and vague traditions became legend. 

She had been walking for more than an hour and suddenly everything was louder, and shadows moved up ahead.

She crept silently and spotted a large outcropping of rock. Thankful for her dark dress and boots, she clambered up its rough side and perched near the top, and she sucked in a sharp breath at the sight she saw.

Around a roaring fire, beasts and girls danced—although they weren't girls, really; they were nymphs and dryads. Lucy recognized Cera's pinkish hair bobbing in the firelight as she shrieked and sang, in the arms of a young dryad. Several satyrs and fauns danced with nymphs, loud and raucous and obviously drunk; tankards and barrels littered the clearing, and mugs and goblets were scattered about. A few fauns played pipes; there was a large dryad on a deep drum, banging and wild. Long hair whipped in the autumn wind as nymphs sang with the music; the fire pulsed and lips crashed together, hands on bodies, feet lighter than leaves on the air.

She crept closer to the band, and she thought she knew one of the fauns sitting on a barrel of wine, playing as though his life depended on it. Three nymphs on the back of a bear obscured the view for a moment, but they passed and firelight fell on his face, and it was Tumnus.

He looked different, somehow. His dark eyes were deeper than the ocean, black and wide; his lashes were heavy and shone in the firelight like silk. His curly brown hair was wild, shaggy and tangled by wind. Leaves stuck in it and around his horns he wore a wreath of ivy. She noticed then that all wore crowns of plants; nymphs had late flowers, asters and late roses; men wore leaves, branches—even thorns. Tumnus' stubs of horns seemed jagged in the flickering light. His chest was bare—no scarf tonight—and it was painted blue and red, handprints of girls and the paw print of the bear was over his spine. His legs were steady; his hooves had been dyed a bright red with henna or something like it; his fur had been painted like his chest, streaks and zigzags and primitive symbols. He was almost frightening and nothing like the faun she knew; tonight he was mostly beast and much less man. Lucy felt she was looking at a stranger.

The song ended and all cheered, raising glasses and mugs to the musicians, who bowed and raised their goblets back. People ceased dancing for food, large slabs of greasy meat and rough brown bread. There was no fruit on the long table (really just a log with a woven cloth over it) but there were squashes and pumpkins; corn and potatoes. They ate together, standing, with their hands. Lucy crouched where she was, feeling her stomach growl. She wanted nothing more than to go down and join the naked nymphs and the sweaty dryads. She wanted to strip out of her stuffy gown and be one with the world, as these creatures so seemed to be. She began to move off her perch, but a long wail distracted her and she looked again.

The huge dryad had taken up the drum again, and everyone began laughing and grinning in a way quite unsettling. Couples formed and a circle—rough and lopsided, but a circle nonetheless—snaked around the large table and the drummer. A slim nymph perched on the edge of his barrel drum, and she sung a haunting song, holding a strange lute-like instrument of her own. The clouds parted and the harvest moon poured down on the clearing, lighting everyone in a strange golden light.

Her eyes found Mr. Tumnus again and a nymph, pale green and beautiful, with a tiny waist and long legs, small breasts and thick waves of blue hair, had hold of his hands, and he was laughing, protesting, but finally he grinned—a feral, toothy grin, so unlike the way he smiled at her—and he took the nymph's face in his hands and he kissed her hard, lips and teeth together, tongues entwined. Lucy felt her stomach drop. The drumming beat inside of Lucy's body. The instrument filled her head and her chest with such a longing she thought she might burst.

Tumnus had dropped to his knees, the girl before him, and his hooves shone like blood in the fire. She bent to him, long hair hiding his face, and his hands spread over the back of her thighs like bruises. Lucy heard him say something in a foreign language. The nymph replied with a laugh—harsh and much like a crow's—and Tumnus growled at her, turning her over rather roughly.

Lucy was reminded of the time she saw the neighbor's Dalmatian on top of their spaniel, and she had called Edmund in a panic. Edmund had laughed at her—_no, they're not fighting, Lu_—and after a bit Lady had given birth to beautiful spotted puppies. And suddenly Lucy understood, and her eyes were huge in her head. She wanted to look away but it was something like a train wreck—her eyes were fixed on Tumnus as he grabbed the nymph's hips roughly, his hair hiding his eyes, as he pushed against her. Her legs hooked around his hocks and he muttered something in that low, strange language again.

They were straining together, sweat coating their bodies in a strange silver film, and Lucy couldn't look away.

The girl tossed her head back, and Tumnus reached out and grabbed her hair, pulling her neck up, exposed. Lucy's mouth was open; she was horrified, but at the same time her stomach was growing warm and something in her was pounding and it had nothing to do with the drum.

Tumnus was panting. Lucy watched and felt her cheeks flush dark as she imagined herself in the nymph's place.

His teeth shone as he gasped.

Her mouth was open and her lips were dry.

He leaned over the nymph's back, making the shape her back took, curved together like a serpent.

Her fingers gripped the rock and along her arms, goose bumps stood up.

Around the nymph and Tumnus, couples moved and moaned, but Lucy saw nothing but the faun who made her tea and sandwiches; the faun who read her bedtime stories.

His nails dug into the girl's upper arms and left bleeding crescents there.

Her hair fell in her eyes.

He suddenly shuddered, and cried out sharply, and she was scared for a moment that he was hurt and then she remembered the girl in Peter's room and she understood, finally understood.

She heard Peter's voice in her mind, as he leaned over the redhead, whisper _I love you_.

Lucy felt sick and she stood up suddenly, dizzy and disoriented.

And the movement caught his eye, and he looked up.

Their eyes met and his face froze. He had a blue circle around one brown eye and he looked as though someone had punched him in the gut.

Lucy stood, some pale spirit, in her black dress, with her blonde hair spilling down over her shoulders and her breasts in waves.

His mouth moved, but she could not hear what he said.

He took a step forward, and Lucy was gone.


	7. Falling Over Backwards

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Seven**

_Falling Over Backwards_

Lucy crept back to Cair Paravel in a stupor, moving dully yet swiftly. She pulled herself up the balcony of her room and miserably crawled into bed, pulling her heavy silk comforters over her head.

All she could think was _Mr. Tumnus is in love with someone else._

The tears came slowly, taking their time. Seeing him like that—Lucy didn't have a word for what it was she had witnessed, but it was upsetting and unfamiliar and it didn't feel right. It tore her in pieces. She muffled her sobs with her pillows, long blond hair tangling around her head.

"Nothing will ever be all right," she wailed to her bedroom.

She heard footsteps before her door and she silenced, listening hard, heart beating. A knock came.

"Lucy?"

"Go away!" Lucy cried forcefully, voice hard.

"Lu, can I come in?" And she sighed; Edmund's voice was quiet on the other side of the door.

"I don't care," she muttered, turning over, covers still over her head. The door opened and closed and Lucy heard the lock slide into place. He sat down beside her on the bed.

"Are you all right?"

"No," Lucy said bitterly. "I'll never be all right again."

Edmund sighed and patted her hip. Lucy sniffed.

"Peter's being such an arse." Edmund's voice was hard, and it was clear he was put out. "I'm so angry with him. But, Lu, you agreed to this plan. It's terrible and it's no kind of solution—and I'm not sure why you agreed in the first place, I certainly wouldn't have—but it's what you signed up for. I can't imagine you're completely surprised."

"I didn't think I'd have to give up my dearest friend," Lucy mumbled into her covers. "But today I don't mind as much."

"That's a sudden change of heart," Edmund said suspiciously, watching the satin bulk that was his little sister. "Why are you so forgiving of Peter, the Magnificent Arse, this morning?"

"Ed," Lucy asked quietly, "have you heard of the other party in the fall?"

"You mean another party besides Susan's?" Edmund asked, unsure how he should answer her.

"Yes."

"I have." He wouldn't lie to her, he knew that much, and he resigned himself to tell her everything she needed to know.

"What is it?"

"A celebration of life," Edmund said dully.

"And do…do people…"

"Couples often form. It's…well, a celebration of love, really."

"In the fall?"

"That's when we need to be reminded of love most, perhaps," Edmund mused, wondering what exactly had happened. "Everything is dying, but hope must remain. I suppose that's what it's all about." He fell silent. "Why do you ask?"

"I went out last night," Lucy said suddenly, unafraid of the consequences.

"And you saw an equinoctial festival," Edmund finished her thought. Lucy nodded, and Edmund tugged the covers down from over her face. She looked out at him, red-eyed and pale, and he felt a pang of sorrow for the life Lucy must lead. "You should never have to be so sad," he mumbled, pushing back her hair from her delicate face. "What does the celebration have to do with you and Noor and Tumnus?"

"There is a side to Mr. Tumnus I did not know," Lucy said, flustered, and Edmund suddenly understood.

"Well, everyone has secrets, Lu," he said gently.

"Not like that," she said stubbornly. "Not at all like that."

"You must remember that Mr. Tumnus is not human," Edmund told her, and Lucy felt as though he had slapped her across the face. "And his customs are different from ours."

"I do not feel so badly about not seeing him," Lucy said, and Edmund sighed. The conversation was over, but he asked one final question.

"Why didn't you tell Peter and Aslan that you are in love with someone else?"

And Lucy stared at him for a moment before laughing, tossing her head back. Edmund smiled at her, but there was a bitter note in the sound and he knew something still bothered her. She subsided and studied him with ocean eyes.

"So that's what it is," she wondered aloud. Edmund leaned forward and hugged her, and she sagged in relief against him. "I didn't even know."

"It's hard to know, sometimes," Edmund replied, smoothing down her hair.

"I'm still angry at Peter," Lucy mumbled against Edmund's chest.

"So am I." He began untangling a large snarl in his sister's hair. "I think you should talk to Mr. Tumnus."

"He saw me," she said in a serene voice, and Edmund felt his heart lurch. Oh, God, his little sister. He'd kill that dirty old faun.

"I can't believe he took you somewhere so—inappropriate," Edmund struggled for the word.

"He didn't. I just saw a bonfire. I didn't even realize he was there. I saw a few of our servants."

"I'm not surprised." Lucy sat back and Edmund crossed his legs, facing her. "What exactly did you see?"

Lucy's red face was enough of an answer.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Edmund's voice was doubtful. "If he saw you, maybe he wants to explain."

"I don't know if I can see him," Lucy said quietly. "Not as though I could, even if I did want to. Peter, remember?"

"I'll take you to see him," Edmund promised her, clasping her hands in his. "Okay? Now, or whenever—tell me, and I'll escort you—and then I'll make myself scarce. This is such a stupid demand, and I'm not going to make you suffer even if Peter declares me a traitor. All right?"

"Oh, no, Edmund," Lucy protested. "You can't get into trouble for me."

"He can't do much," Edmund said grimly. "Since I'm a King as much as he. I'll bring you, and then I'll get lost."

"What if Peter checks up on me?"

"Peter doesn't know everything," Edmund said with a grin, "even if he is High King." Lucy smiled weakly. "Now, d'you want to see him or not?"

Lucy opened her mouth to reply but a frantic hammering at the door drowned out her voice. The two turned in surprise to look at the door, vibrating in its hinges.

"Lucy!" a nearly-hysterical voice cried from outside the door, and Lucy visibly paled. "Lucy, I know you're in there, your sister said you hadn't come to breakfast! Lucy, open the door, I've—I've got to talk to you!"

"Told you he'd want to explain," Edmund whispered. "Shall you duck into the bath while I explain Peter's royal decree to him?"

"Don't be too cruel, Ed, please," Lucy mumbled in reply, as she darted to her bathroom and closed the door with a silent click.

"Lucy!" The doorknob rattled. Edmund calmly stepped over to it and unlocked the door. He opened it wide and a tired-looking faun nearly fell into the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Tumnus," Edmund said pleasantly. "Can I help you?"

"Where's Lucy?" The faun seemed out of breath and Edmund noticed smears of paint on his face and chest. His hooves were dazzling with streaks of what looked like blood.

"I haven't the slightest idea," Edmund replied. "I was just looking for her myself."

"You haven't seen her?" Tumnus looked stricken. "Oh, this is all my fault!"

"How so?" Edmund replied, gesturing to a rich silk chair. "Sit, please." He closed the door behind Tumnus. Tumnus sunk into the chair, looking devastated.

"I did—I upset her," he stuttered, unsure of what to say. "I think I did, at least. I need to explain myself."

"Anything I can help with?" Edmund asked, and had to fight back a grin when Tumnus frantically shook his head 'no'. "All right, don't get your skirt in a bunch." Tumnus looked confused but he closed his eyes and sighed.

"I need to talk to her," he repeated, looking at Edmund with those dark eyes. Edmund shifted uncomfortably—it felt as though Tumnus could look right through him.

"I haven't seen her," Edmund said, sitting down across from the faun, "and there is something I need to tell you."

Tumnus looked at him curiously.

"Prince Noor—Lucy's fiancé—is under the impression you and she are too close," Edmund explained, noting Tumnus' stricken face when he heard 'fiancé'. "He has asked Peter that you and Lucy not be alone together."

Tumnus gaped, helplessly, before sputtering "But I—we—it's nothing like that! Surely Peter knows—"

Edmund held up his hand. "Peter knows. But the whole point of this marriage is to align with Archenland, not antagonize the Prince. So we have to go along with it. No more teas, no more walks, no more anything on your own. Lucy may, of course, visit you while accompanied by an escort—myself, or Prince Noor, or Susan—but she may not see you one-on-one anymore." Edmund was quiet, watching it sink in. "It's not a very good plan on Peter's part; but that is what it is."

"I see." Tumnus drew a deep breath. "I cannot say I understand, but if King Peter says that is what must be, then that is that." He stood up shakily. "I suppose I shall never see her now," he said mournfully, mostly to himself. "Thank you, King Edmund."

"Not a problem," Edmund waved it off. "I'll tell her you came by looking for her."

"Don't," Tumnus cried desperately. "That will just make things worse."

"All right." Tumnus let himself out; the door clicked closed behind him.

Edmund strode over to the bathroom door and opened it gently. Lucy was huddled on the floor, her cheek pressed against the wood. Her face was grave but she did not cry.

"This is all so impossible," she said in a small voice as Edmund helped her up. "I hate it, Ed. I hate this."

"I know. You're sure you don't want to see him?"

"Not now." Lucy shook her head. "I will when I am ready."

"All right." Edmund leaned forward, kissed her upon the crown of her blonde head. "Please try to cheer up. And maybe think about being honest—with yourself and with others. I've found it is the only way to be happy."

"Don't tell anyone, Edmund," and Edmund smiled at her.

"I won't tell a soul," he promised her, solemn. "Your secret is safe with me."

* * *

Lucy joined her brothers and sister at dinner, but she did not speak to Peter directly. Edmund greatly enjoyed the pain on his brother's face; Susan looked tormented and tried her hardest to indulge Lucy—she asked her specific questions, offered to take her places. Doting was heavy between the Pevensie girls. Lucy accepted all of Susan's offers coldly but politely. Edmund and Lucy talked softly together while Peter looked more and more hurt. Lucy excused herself early.

"I feel like a horrible brother," Peter said quietly when his youngest sibling was out of earshot.

"Well, you are," Edmund said simply.

"Edmund!" Susan snapped at him. "That is a dreadful thing to say. Peter is only trying to do what's best for Narnia."

"Has anyone thought about what is best for Lucy?" Edmund growled at his sister. "Perhaps she doesn't want to marry that pompous idiot. Perhaps there is someone she would like better—or perhaps she doesn't wish to get married at all," he added hastily. "She should have the right to choose."

"Narnia comes before any one of our happiness," Peter said stoutly. "That is the way the country will be run."

"You're ruining your family life," Edmund told him. A footstep on the landing alerted them that they were no longer alone, and they all fell quiet.

"This is a grim dinner party," Noor laughed, sitting down in Lucy's abandoned chair. "Good evening to you all." They greeted him in turn. "Where is Lucy?"

"She was not feeling well," Susan said quickly. "She ate only a small dinner and retired to bed."

"You did tell her of my request?" Noor asked Peter.

"Yes," Peter said, closing his eyes as though it hurt him to say.

"It is far too early and too lovely a night to think about sleeping," Noor said, oblivious to Peter's discomfort and Edmund's glares. "I did hope Lucy would accompany me on a walk, but I am sorry to have missed her."

"I would be happy to show you our beaches," Susan spoke up suddenly. Noor smiled at her, his deep blue eyes warm on her face. A rosy blush crept up Susan's neck.

"I would be glad for such radiant company." The two stood up, and wished the brothers a good night.

Edmund stood as well.

"I'll be leaving," he said shortly.

"Could you think on me a little more fondly?" Peter's voice was thin. "I am doing what must be done."

"No, you are doing what you think, in your narrow-minded way, will be good foreign policy. Perhaps focus on the girl who gave you Narnia, instead of trying to give her away so easily."

"I was not aware that Lucy has some secret desire," Peter said shortly.

"I am not saying she does," Edmund said shortly, "but you never bothered to find out. Cannot Susan marry this idiot?"

"Susan is spoken for," Peter said heavily.

"And do we need that alliance as well?"

"We need all the friends we can get," Peter replied, and Edmund left him alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Night had long fallen but Lucy lay wide awake. She sent Cera out early and made sure she had heard each of her siblings retire; Susan came in the latest, but after the door of her room slid shut, Lucy flew out of bed and hurriedly dressed herself as quickly as possible. She chose the dress she knew flattered her most—a dark midnight blue, which left her skin a milky white and her hair like corn-silk. Her blue eyes were dark as she studied herself in the mirror. She twisted up her long blonde waves and suddenly paused. She remembered something Mr. Tumnus had asked her, a long time ago, and with an uncertain smile she let her hair down.

"Okay," she breathed in the empty room; she turned to her balcony and slipped out into the night.


	8. Until It Consumes Us

**Author's Note: **Hope you're all enjoying this story so far. This chapter also has a love scene in it; however, it's much more toned down than chapter 6 and therefore I think it's appropriate for FFN rules. Think of it as a PG-13 love scene, and not an R :D

Enjoy! This story is almost complete.

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Eight**

_Until It Consumes Us_

Tumnus couldn't sleep. Sick to his stomach, he rolled from side to side in his bed (it seemed unusually stiff and uncomfortable), his head reeling. The image of Lucy, ghostly in the darkness, was burned behind his eyelids. He groaned, covering his face with his pillow.

"Damn it," he muttered to the empty room. He heaved himself out of bed, his hooves clacking as they hit the floor, and he ripped open the curtains. The ocean was wild, crashing and gray-green. It was rather bright out, but neither the ocean nor the moon pleased Tumnus as he left his bed and clattered into the main part of his rooms, fretful. He slumped down on a chair near the hearth; his dark eyes dry from forgetting to blink. His thoughts raced.

"How am I ever going to explain this?" He wondered aloud, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He ran long fingers through his tangled hair, plucking out a stray leaf. Memories of the previous night came crashing back and he closed his eyes, nausea taking over.

"I can't be expected to change my behavior, just for Lucy," he reasoned, putting on a kettle to boil, nervously scraping at some left-over paint on his stomach. "I've gone every year since—well, since long before I met her. She can't change _everything_." He sat again in the chair, knitting his fingers together, nervously. "It's not my fault that she—how did she find it, anyway?" His voice was loud in the room, echoing off stone walls. "Out of all the clearings in Narnia—of the hundreds of fires—she chose mine to come to."

The kettle began hissing and he took it off the burner, not wanting to wake the whole of Cair Paravel. Tumnus grabbed blindly for a mug and tea from his cupboard, stirring the hot water with a wooden spoon. He took his cup but he did not sit; he leaned against the large window in the room, looking out at the ocean. The mug of tea steamed the glass and he wiped the moisture away.

"It is just like her," he murmured, startled by how completely she was woven into everything he knew. He smiled briefly, until the memory of her horrified face brought him back to reality. "Aslan, my head hurts."

"Can't say I blame you for being a wreck," a voice came from the doorway, low and dark. Tumnus spun, his hooves grinding on the stone. "I'd feel the same way."

Tumnus approached the shadowy figure leaning in the doorway, clutching his mug as though it would protect him.

"Can I help you?" He asked, voice shaky from exhaustion and regret.

"Yes," the man replied, closing the door behind him. "You can stay away from my fiancé."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Tumnus protested, backing up as the figure approached. He stepped into the light from the window; his dark hair shone like a crow's wing. Tumnus bumped against the counter, pupils large in the dark.

"You know very well what I mean, Faun," the voice sneered, as Prince Noor stood before Tumnus. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of a sword, stuck in his belt. "She is far too delicate a flower for your rough ways—not as though she would ever feel anything towards a beast like you. I don't understand what she wants from you at all—but you can want nothing decent of her."

"Queen Lucy is my friend," Tumnus said, voice low; he hated feeling inferior to humans as he did. Noor was much taller and stronger than Tumnus, and armed besides. There was not much Tumnus could do in defense against him, and the thought infuriated the normally proud faun. "And that is all I want from her. And what she wants from me. I have known her since she was a little girl."

"All the more reason your infatuation is disgusting," the Prince snapped, interrupting Tumnus' train of thought. "You will stay away from her, beast. You have nothing to offer—except for fleas." He staggered a little as he came closer to Tumnus, and Tumnus smelled wine on his breath.

"You're drunk," Tumnus said shortly, moving towards the fireplace.

"So what," spat Noor, stumbling over the rug as he followed Tumnus to the hearth. "Your kind is drunk most days. You ought to be accustomed to it."

"And did Lucy send you, to tell me she hates me so?" Tumnus' voice was hard.

"Do not _dare_ to address her by her given name!" Noor shouted, so loudly that Tumnus was sure someone must have heard them. "She is a Queen, you filthy beast, and you are unfit to have her name on your lips."

"You did not answer my question," Tumnus said calmly, his hand brushing along the wall behind him.

"She did not need to say anything," Noor sneered. "It's clear enough that she loathes you. She is simply too sweet to tell you, poor creature. She does not want to hurt the rough feelings you have—if you have any."

"You're a liar," Tumnus growled. "King Edmund told me that it was you who demanded she not see me any more. Are you afraid, Noor? Are you afraid that perhaps dear Lucy cares for a lowly faun more than you? Could it be, perhaps, that she holds no love for you at all? Would you like to know the truth?"

"How dare you accuse me of lying!" Noor yelled, swaying a little as he drew his sword.

"Either you or King Edmund is the liar," Tumnus replied shortly, "and I can assure you it is not a King of Narnia."

"I will be King of Narnia," Noor said in a whisper, putting the edge of the blade against Tumnus' neck. "And you, faun, will be nothing but dog food."

"There are only two Kings of Narnia," Tumnus said, hand closing around what he had been looking for. "And you will never, ever be able to call yourself King, no matter if you force Lucy to marry you or not."

"I should kill you here, in your own filth-ridden cave," hissed Noor, the edge of the sword biting into Tumnus' skin. "By the lion, but it reeks of shit in here. Can you not even clean a little bit? It is a blessing I am taking Lucy away from this place. This is not fit for a servant, let alone a Queen."

"If you kill me," Tumnus said, voice low, "then you will truly find out that it is I Lucy cares for, not you." He tried to look serious as he leveled his gaze with Noor's, his hand tightening around the handle of the iron poker. "If you kill me, you will never set foot in Narnia again."

"You insolent creature," Noor spat, eyes blurry from the wine. "For that, I will kill you. And I will think of you and laugh when I have Lucy in my bed."

Tumnus' eyes flared in anger, and without moving his head he whipped the poker from the rack it stood in and bashed Noor upside the head. The Prince collapsed, looking stunned, the sword clattering to the stone floor. Tumnus stood, heart racing, clutching the poker in both hands. Noor did not stir.

"Oh, God," he whispered, "I've killed the bastard."

* * *

Lucy walked softly along the white beach of the Eastern Sea, her hem trailing in the powdery sand. Her long hair was white in the moonlight, blowing wildly as she made her way to the other side of the castle. Her mind raced with all the possibilities of how the conversation could go; she tried not to think too hard on any one scenario. She crept to the large window of his room. Quietly, she tried the latch; finding it unfastened, she gently pushed the glass open and hoisted herself up the short distance to the sill. She slipped into his room, closed the window behind her. She smelled tea and touched the kettle's side; feeling it still warm, she crept to the hearth. 

Tumnus was not there.

She peered into his bedroom, half-expecting to find him up and reading, or perhaps already asleep. But he was not sitting in the chair by the lamp; nor was he asleep in the bed. The lamp was not lit at all.

She backed out of the room, and she bumped into something solid and very warm. With a scream, she turned around, as someone frantically hushed her and clapped a warm, long-fingered hand over her mouth.

"Lucy, shh, no!" Tumnus whispered frantically, putting a finger to his lips. "You mustn't make such noise! Do you want Peter to come down here and find us?" He uncovered her mouth; she seemed to have recovered from her shock.

"I'm sorry, you startled me," she said. She refrained from throwing her arms about him, reminding herself she was still upset with him. It was only after a moment, her eyes adjusting to the dark, that she saw the long, shallow gash on his neck. "Oh, Mr. Tumnus, what happened?"

"Your pig fiancé," he said with contempt, then looked suddenly sheepish. "This is not what it looks like."

Lucy followed his eyes to the dark shape on the floor. Her mouth fell open.

"Please tell me he isn't…" she whispered, terror filling her.

"No, no, he's only unconscious," Tumnus reassured her, crouching down by Noor's head to show her. He picked up one of Noor's brown arms and dropped it, watching it bounce against the stone floor. "He'll be fine, but I've got to get him out of here."

"What did you do to him?" Lucy asked aloud, still in shock at seeing Noor's prone body on her gentle friend's floor.

"I hit him with the fireplace poker," Tumnus said sheepishly, and he was surprised when Lucy laughed. "He came bursting in here stone drunk, waving his sword about and calling me all sorts of dreadful names."

"Well, come on, I'll take his feet," Lucy said calmly, picking up Noor's heavy boots; and as Tumnus understood that she meant to help him move the body, he realized he was in love with her.

* * *

They got Noor back to his rooms without much incident; Lucy nudged the unlocked door open with her hip and they laid Noor out on the bed, not bothering to remove his boots. Tumnus put his sword beside him and Lucy put the empty wine bottle back on his bedside table. 

"There," she whispered, "no harm done."

"Lucy—" Tumnus said hoarsely, but she shook her head.

"Not here," she said, shaking her head. He noticed that her hair was loose and then he looked at her—really looked at her—and he nearly wept at her beauty.

The light from the setting moon lit her from behind, making her hair glow a golden-white, tumbling loose in waves over her shoulders and down her back. Her slender body was a graceful shadow in the dress she wore; but it was her face that made him speechless. Her large blue eyes were watching him intently, as though he were the only person in the world that mattered. Her small mouth was open, and though she did not smile he couldn't help thinking that her pink lips were just like a rose or a shell or something else rare and overlooked. He was sure, at that moment, he could not live without her.

On the bed, Noor moaned, and Tumnus looked to Lucy for an answer.

"Where?" He asked in a whisper, and she took his wrist in her small, fair hand and led him quickly from Noor's room and down the hallway where her brothers and sister slept. She pulled him into her rooms; she shut the large white doors behind them and locked them with a silver key. She pulled it out of the lock and set it on her vanity. She closed the French doors off her balcony and locked those, as well.

He stood across the room from her as they looked at each other, suddenly shy, and he felt as though they were at an impasse he could never cross.

"The other night—" he began with a croak, as though he had not used his voice in a long time.

"I saw," she said in a sharp breath, seeming to waver on her feet. "I saw everything. Mr. Tumnus, why? Why would you do such a thing as that?"

"I've always done it," he said, though he knew it was no excuse. "I've gone to equinoctial celebrations every season, since I reached adulthood hundreds of years ago. I have always gone hoping to find a wife."

"But it's so—barbaric," Lucy said in a small voice. He wanted to hold her, comfort her; to reassure her that nothing had changed. _I am still your Mr. Tumnus_, he longed to tell her, but no words came out. He sat down suddenly on the edge of her bed.

"I don't know how to explain," he said finally, voice hollow. "I don't know how to make you see it's not what it looked like."

"You still have all that paint on you," she murmured, coming close to him. Her fingertips reached out and brushed over his stomach, across red paint that had failed to wash off. His skin shivered below her touch, and she drew her hand away. "Mr. Tumnus, I don't understand how you could have never told me." Her voice was far away and sad. "I thought you were my dearest friend."

"I am, Lucy," he said imploringly. "Certainly you know that! Aren't I yours?" He asked, almost afraid to hear her answer.

"Yes, you are," she said, voice weak, sitting down on the bed across from him. "That is why I'm so confused. I tell you everything, Mr. Tumnus, but this—this ritual—that is such a part of your life, well; you never told me a thing about it."

"I didn't see a reason to tell you," he said, hands in his lap, ashamed.

"Well, you should have," she said severely, and he looked up at her in surprise. "I have a right to know what immoral things you do. I would like to have that, in my consideration of the friendship. I feel as though you have lied to me."

"Oh, but Lucy, it's not immoral at all," Tumnus protested, leaning to take her hands in his. She flinched when he touched her and he dropped back, stung. "It's not immoral. It's what my kind has done for thousands of years—and even longer. It's just a celebration, Lucy."

"That is something you only do with someone you love," Lucy whispered, not looking at him.

"Why do you say that?" He looked genuinely confused.

"The Bible says so," Lucy said, voice a little stronger, meeting his eyes. Tumnus sighed.

"Well, I've never read the Bible," he said shortly, though he knew that it hurt her feelings to have him scorn the book she held so dear. "But do you believe that Aslan knows what is wrong and what is right?"

"Yes, of course," she said, with the utmost faith.

"Aslan knows about the celebrations," Tumnus told her, his eyes sincere. "He knows about them and he does not condemn them. They are an important part of Narnian culture."

"But it's wrong," Lucy whispered again.

"Why?" Tumnus asked.

Lucy tried to find a response, but she couldn't seem to come up with one to her satisfaction. Instead, she asked him a startling question:

"Are you in love, Mr. Tumnus?"

He regarded her with dark eyes and he could not lie to her, not with her looking at him so.

"Yes," he answered honestly, "but not with anyone at that celebration."

"Oh," her voice wobbled. "I—I see."

They sat in silence, words stuck in the air between them.

"Who is she?" Lucy asked again, her voice plaintive, an injured kitten's mewl.

"She is beautiful," Tumnus said, voice reverent. Lucy closed her eyes; she would not look at him. "You know her very well. She loves the ocean and the woods; she loves stories and she loves having tea with an old goat, and she never ever thinks less of me for not being human. She sings so prettily and she has the most lovely golden hair." Lucy did not look up at him. "You must know, Lucy."

"How could I know?"

"You notice I do not hang about your sister like I do you."

"But Susan is so beautiful—everyone says so—"

"Susan," Tumnus interrupted, "is not as beautiful as you. Susan's eyes do not burn with a passion to know more. Susan's heart is not pure with love for Narnia. Susan does not go swimming with me. Susan does not tell me stories. I have never tucked Susan in at night and I have never had Susan for tea. Susan, forgive me, is not half the queen or girl that you are."

Lucy was silent.

"I hope you do not think I speak ill of your sister," Tumnus continued, barreling ahead now that he had started this speech. "But she cannot hold a candle to you, Lucy. You are the only reason I survived the Witch's castle. You are the reason I lived through the Hundred Years' Winter. Lucy, I could survive only because I knew that you were out there, somewhere, saving me and saving all of Narnia. Lucy, you are a gift the likes of which I never thought I would know. I am blessed to know you. And I am unbelievably lucky to have you as my dear friend. Lucy, without you, I am nothing. I am dead."

Lucy did not reply. With her hands clenched in her lap and her head bowed, she was almost like a statue.

"Say something, please," Tumnus said desperately.

Lucy looked up at him with those blue eyes that drew in the world. Without a word, she leaned across the bed and pressed her lips to his.

He froze in shock, but then his arms were around her and she was alive under his hands, and he pulled her roughly into his lap. He felt her legs on either side of his torso, and his hands found her hair, mouth forceful against hers.

"I am not human," he gasped, as their lips splintered apart, her breath hot against his face. "Lucy, I am not human."

"I don't care," she said, voice thick with desire. "You are my Mr. Tumnus, and that is all that matters." Her hands stroked the thick hair of his legs. "I so love the feeling of fur," her voice purred against his ear, and he seized on her, no thought to controlling the feelings she pulled from him.

He felt the need to talk—to spill everything out before her. There were so many arguments against this, but he could not listen to those with his throat choking on confessions of love—things he had only dreamed of saying.

"I was, firstly, your teacher," he whispered to her, winding his long fingers through her loose hair. "You always asked me for advice, for stories—for everything, Lucy. I was your mentor. And I vowed I'd answer everything you ever asked me, if I possibly could. I resolved to give you all the knowledge and all the lessons. But it was you who taught me everything, despite my resolve. You taught me what matters, Lucy." Her eyes studied his, round and unguarded. "Every lesson I learnt from you."

"My dear," she murmured against his mouth, belly against belly, chest against chest. Smooth thighs wrapped around his waist tightly. The sole of her foot brushed his tail in passing. "You were, firstly, the other half of me."

"This body—this useless body—it lives for so long but it's worthless without you," he continued, blind, her light scorching his eyes. "My heart fails, my knees buckle—my lungs can't breathe when I am alone, when you're not with me." She dragged her lips down his throat and if he didn't know better he would have thought she had done this so many times before. _We just fit together,_ he thought wildly, before her voice interrupted his contemplation.

"I like your body," she said; voice full of gravel, her hands tangled in his curls. Her words were simple, so like the child she longed to be, that for a moment he thought _this is wrong_ before desire overtook him entirely, her hands in his lap, searching, groping—destroying.

"Oh, Lucy, how can I live without you?" He scrabbled with her dress, ripping the buttons off, exposing her freckled back. Strong hands against her spine for an instant, and then he had her naked before him. He stopped, for an instant, to admire her in a way he'd never been able to before.

"You don't have to."

"We mustn't do this," he replied huskily. "This can never work out. Lucy, us together can only bring sorrow."

"That is what Peter and Susan say," she agreed, as their mouths meshed together. "I don't care," she said. "I like you."

"This will end badly," he moaned against her neck.

"No, it won't," she said, tossing back her golden hair, his fingers on either side of her narrow spine. "It will end just fine."

"How do you know?" His breathing was ragged as she clung to him, tugging on his long ears, the pads of her thumbs stroking the nubs where his horns used to be.

"I just know," she mumbled. "It has to end fine. How else can it end? It's always been you and me, hasn't it? I don't see any reason why—oh, God," she drooped forward, lips parted. "Why do you make me feel this way?"

"I don't know," he whimpered, inhaling the smell of her—ocean salt and jasmine and the whole of the world. "I don't know anything anymore."

"It must be because I'm in love with you," she gasped, crumpling in his arms. "It's the only explanation."

"Lucy," he breathed, and they collapsed together, slick with sweat. His musk, a heady animal smell, was heavy in the room.

"You can't stay," Lucy whispered, mouth against his neck.

"No," he said gently, and cradled her when she fell asleep. He lay awake for a long time after, memorizing the feeling of her curled along his side. He traced the shape of her face with his fingers. He counted the freckles across the bridge of her nose.

"Lucy," he murmured, brushing aside her hair. He laughed quietly. He had meant to say beautiful—but he supposed her name was a synonym for that.

He fell asleep without meaning to, sated and complete, his head pillowed on her chest, her hands clenched in his.


	9. The Death of Me

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Nine**

_The Death of Me_

The shrieks of mermen playing in the surf outside Lucy's windows were rather loud that morning, but they did not wake the two sleeping soundly in the Queen's deep bed.

The door rattled, but it disturbed neither Lucy nor Tumnus.

"Damn it," Peter swore, "she's locked the door against us."

"Maybe she doesn't want to be disturbed," Edmund said loudly at his side, bobbing beside him as Peter went to fetch the spare key. "Maybe you ought to respect her wishes."

"She's too young to have wishes," Peter said dismissively, finding the spare key in his bedside table and turning back to his sister's rooms.

"That's an awful thing to say," Edmund growled. "Let's at least ask Susan what she thinks." Edmund knew very well what they would find behind that door, and he couldn't let Peter see it. There was no telling what would happen to Lucy—not to mention the faun—if the High King found out what Lucy had done.

Edmund knew, of course. He'd known for years, but he recognized the look in his sister's eyes as they had spoken the day before, and he had crept out of his room after he heard the faun's hooves on the stone floor. He had heard the muffled words, the creaking of her bedstead. He had gone back to bed, pleased for Lucy but worried for the morning. Thank Aslan she had the foresight to lock the door.

"Susan!" Edmund yelled, banging on his sister's door. "Come out here for a moment, would you?"

Susan came out, looking sleepy, clutching a silk housecoat around herself. "What on earth's the matter, Ed?"

"Peter is trying to break into Lucy's rooms," Edmund explained quickly. "She's locked the door and he won't listen to me to let her alone."

"Oh, Peter, you mustn't go barging in there," Susan said disapprovingly. "She'll be so angry with you."

"She's too young to be locking her doors," Peter said sternly. "What has she got to hide? She's being childish."

"Respect her, Peter," Edmund said, voice a warning. "Or you'll regret it."

"Edmund is right, Peter," Susan said. "I can't imagine why her door's locked, but that's her business, not yours."

"I am her brother and I have to keep her safe." He was stubborn. "I'm going to open it."

"What's all this?" Came a groggy voice, and Noor came out of his room. There was a large welt on his forehead, and he looked rather green.

"Oh, Prince Noor, are you ill?" Susan cried, going to him and inspecting the mark on his head.

"Just fell last night, is all," Noor said gruffly. "Nothing to fret about. What's all the shouting about?"

"Lucy has locked the door to her room, and Peter wants to open it," Susan explained kindly, still worried about the state of his head.

"Well, of course he must!" Noor exclaimed. "What if she's fainted and needs help? What if a candle's fallen over and she's overwhelmed by the fumes? Is Queen Lucy known for locking her doors?"

"No, not at all," Susan said in a small voice.

"Well, King Peter," Noor said, gesturing towards Lucy's rooms, and the two started towards the end of the hall where the large white doors stood closed. Edmund drew Susan hard against him, and he whispered furiously in her ear:

"Lucy and Tumnus are in there—_together—_and Peter and Noor mustn't see," Edmund pulled back and Susan stood wide-eyed.

"Whatever do you _mean_, Edmund?"

"Lucy. Tumnus. _Together."_ Edmund stressed the word. "Intimately."

"Oh!" Susan blushed, and then they both looked at Peter, who was fumbling with the key. "Oh, _no_!" Edmund took his sister's arm and they began running towards the two men. Edmund slammed into Peter's back, causing him to drop the key.

"Peter, stop it at once," Susan said, her color high, as Peter swore at Edmund and recovered the key. "I shall never speak to you again if you open that door."

"Shall we indulge your sister?" Noor said doubtfully, smiling fondly on Susan, but Peter was firm and irritated.

"I am High King, not you," Peter said with a scowl. "And I say you are all being foolish. Why are you so suspicious-acting, Edmund? She probably did it by mistake. I'm sure she'll be in the bath, or still sleeping."

"She's sleeping, all right," Edmund muttered, but Peter ignored him. He fitted the key into the lock and turned it. With a hiss and a metallic slide, the lock turned over, and Peter took hold of the doorknob and pushed the door open.

The three Pevensies and Noor squeezed into the room, and stopped in disbelief.

Sometime in the night, Lucy had kicked the covers off; she lay naked, her head pillowed on Tumnus' bare chest. Her hand was held in one of his; his other was tangled in her blonde hair. One of her pale legs was thrown out across his, crooked around his thigh, the sole of her foot flush against his hoof. He slept on his back, his breathing deep and even.

"What in the hell is this?" Peter bellowed, face red, starting Lucy and Tumnus out of sleep. They both panicked, Lucy snatching for the blankets, Tumnus trying to cover her up as well. Lucy grabbed the comforter and pulled it up over herself. The two sat trembling next to each other as Peter's face grew purple. Susan's mouth was agape, as though she didn't believe it though Edmund had told her; Edmund was calm, looking at Lucy with sympathy. Noor stood, shocked, trying to comprehend what was happening.

"I can explain, Peter," said Lucy, voice small.

"No," Peter shouted, choking on the words, "don't say a word."

"Peter, you mustn't," Susan pleaded, but finally Noor spoke up.

"Don't punish your sister, King Peter," Noor said coldly. A muscle in his jaw was twitching. "It's obvious what has happened here."

Peter glanced over at Noor. "Is it?"

"My poor Lucy," he said, pity in his voice. "This—this _beast,_" Noor spat, looking with hatred at Tumnus. "He has clearly…well, one does not like to say it in front of ladies."

"Do explain yourself, Noor," Susan said icily.

"The creature has obviously seduced and violated Queen Lucy," Noor said plainly. "It is as clear as glass."

"You mean to say he raped her?" Edmund scoffed. "That's the most preposterous thing I've ever heard suggested. I will tell you exactly what happened here—"

"That will keep, Edmund." Peter's voice was cold. "Is that what happened, Lucy?"

"No!" Lucy cried. "Peter, have you lost your mind? Mr. Tumnus would _never_ do that!"

"He is a faun, my King," Noor said in a low voice, "creatures known for their violence and lust. He lured the Queen into his trust, and then took advantage of her sweet, caring nature."

"That's absurd," Tumnus said in a weak voice, but Peter looked at him with such hatred he stopped speaking.

"You will be quiet," Peter growled.

"What have you got against fauns?" Edmund asked, suspiciously.

"I've heard this beast boasting to others of his kind about how the Queen loved him," Noor sniffed, ignoring Edmund. "It was clear he hadn't any noble intentions."

"No!" Lucy cried again, standing up. She held the comforter around her like a dress. "Edmund, tell them—Edmund, he's _lying!_"

"I know," Edmund said grimly. "Peter, this Prince may be from Archenland and he may be a potential ally, but you would be a damned fool if you believed him. Everyone knows that Lucy and Tumnus have been close friends for years. Tumnus would never hurt her or take advantage of her. Do you honestly believe he would ever harm Lucy? He sacrificed himself to the Witch for her—something I did not. I am more likely to betray Lucy than he is. I already have, when he faced death to uphold her honor and safety. How can you believe some outsider over your own sister and her closest companion?"

"Honestly, Peter," Susan spoke up. "How can you be so dense?" She turned cold eyes on Noor. "And how dare you lie about the woman you plan to marry! Do you accuse her of having no judgment? Do you call her best friend a predator? Sir, you would do well to stop talking before I lose my temper completely with you." Noor looked at Susan in disbelief; the normally gentle Queen was livid.

"Lucy," Tumnus said weakly, getting out of the bed as well. She looked over at him, blue eyes frightened.

"Peter, you must believe me," Lucy said, turning again to her brother. "This was my choice. I had to talk Mr. Tumnus into it."

"I don't want to hear another word," Peter said in a dangerous whisper. "I want you to dress and come to the throne room in ten minutes. Your brother and sister and I will decide what to do with both of you." With that, Peter abruptly turned, herding the three others out of the room. The door slammed behind them.

Lucy began to cry.

Tumnus made his legs move and he went to her, drawing her against him from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, circling her tightly in his arms. She turned to his chest and wept.

"They'll do something awful to you," she wailed against him. He tried his best to hush her.

"Nothing can be as horrible as the Witch's rule," he said gently, rocking them in place, kissing her hair over and over. "We will be all right."

"That horrible Prince Noor," she said darkly. "How could he say such things about you?"

"Because he is jealous," Tumnus said, pushing back her hair. She looked up at him. "Now you must get dressed. We can't afford to anger Peter any more."

"Never leave me," she pleaded, gripping his hands hard in her own. He bent and kissed her, hard, her tears salty on her lips.

"Never," he promised.

* * *

They walked to the throne room holding hands. They went slowly, as though walking to their death. 

Peter, Susan, and Edmund sat in their thrones. Noor stood between Susan and Peter. Peter had never looked so angry in his life.

"Explain yourself," he commanded, but he cut off Lucy when she began to speak. "Not you. The faun."

Tumnus opened his mouth to speak, but words did not come. He cleared his throat and tried again, his brown eyes meeting Peter's hard blue.

"I am in love with your sister," he said, and his confession did not change Peter's face. "I always have been. I have been waiting so long to see if she could possibly feel the same way. Last night, this man came to my rooms and threatened me if I was around your sister again. Do you see this?" He touched the long slash on his neck, scabbed over now. "He threatened my life. So I hit him over the head with the fireplace poker." Edmund laughed out loud, and didn't bother disguising it when Peter looked at him severely. Susan did not smile; she simply looked anxious.

"Lucy came to my rooms shortly after. I suppose she snuck out. We took him back to his rooms. And then she took me to hers, and I couldn't help it." He took a deep breath. "I couldn't help it, King Peter. She is too lovely—she is too good of a person."

"So you admit you took advantage of her," Peter said severely. Lucy looked at him in desperation.

"Mr. Tumnus, what are you—" but Tumnus shook his head at her. He would not allow her to get in trouble.

"I did not mean for her to fall in love with me," Tumnus said. "So I suppose I did. I knew what I was doing, and she was innocent. If that is considered a violation, then yes," he said, closing his eyes. It was so wrong to say it, but he could not bear Lucy being punished. "Yes. It is my fault."

"Mr. Tumnus," Lucy said hopelessly, but Tumnus shook his head again. He did not look at her. He couldn't bear to see her face.

"Very well," Peter said coldly. "I should have you put to death, faun."

"No!" Lucy, Susan, and Edmund all exclaimed. Noor looked smug and Lucy wanted to strike him dead.

"I don't see why you should be spared," Peter said, voice rising. "You raped a Queen of Narnia."

"Peter!" Lucy cried, and he finally looked at his sister. "If you execute Mr. Tumnus, please believe me when I tell you I will be dead before nightfall."

"I do believe she means it, Peter," Edmund muttered.

Peter sat in silence.

"Lucy, no," Tumnus whispered helplessly. "I'm not worth it."

"You promised you would never leave me," Lucy whispered back. "If you die, so do I."

Peter said, "Silence." The two clasped hands again, awaiting their fate.

"You will not die, faun. But you will leave Narnia, and you will not return."

"No!" Lucy whimpered, but a look from Peter silenced her.

"You will leave Cair Paravel and you will go west, beyond Lantern Waste. I do not care where you go beyond there. But you will never come back. Do you understand, faun?"

"My name," Tumnus said, looking Peter square in the eye, "is Tumnus."

"Go," Peter said, eyes furious. "At once."

Tumnus turned, looking piteously at Lucy as he did so. He dropped her hand reluctantly.

"Mr. Tumnus," Lucy whimpered, crying again. Susan had closed her eyes, refusing to watch her sister's heart break.

"I must go, my dear," he murmured. "I love you, you know."

Before Lucy could reply, he was gone.

Peter sighed, looking far less like a king and more like her brother. "You will wed tomorrow night," he said finally, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I will not marry that liar," Lucy hissed.

"I was trying to protect you!" Noor burst out, looking unhappy. "I was trying to make sure you didn't get hurt! Don't you think I haven't noticed you do not love me, Lucy? Do you imagine I do not feel pain? You are cruel but I cannot help love you. Please do not make this worse than it is."

Lucy could not respond. She wiped her eyes with the handkerchief she had in a pocket. When she realized that now Mr. Tumnus had nothing of hers, she nearly broke down again.

"Tomorrow at sundown, then," Peter said.

"That is not very much time," Edmund said, but a look from Peter silenced him.

"You will stay in a guarded room tonight," Peter declared, eyes hard as he looked at Lucy. "Do you understand? You will be locked in. You will not be going anywhere." Lucy's eyes were dry as she defiantly returned Peter's glare.

"I hate you," she said finally, her words venom. "I never thought I would be able to hate you, Peter, but I hope you die painfully and alone, with all your sins and atrocities around you." She turned on her heel and stomped from the room.

"Oh, Lucy," Susan said with a small sigh, rushing after her sister.

Noor left without a word.

Edmund rose from his throne and looked severely at Peter.

"You're a bloody idiot, did you know?" Edmund said. Peter sighed.

"Not right now, Ed," he replied. "We're lucky that Noor will still consider the marriage, what with Lucy being damaged goods—"

"Damaged goods?" Edmund was shocked. "I ought to punch you in the face, you git. She's not damaged goods. She's in _love_, you wretch. Not like you'd know what that feels like. You're in love with power, Peter; you're in love with being the boss. You disgust me. What happened to my older brother? When did he become power-hungry and cruel? When did he lose his conscience?" Edmund spat on the floor at Peter's feet. "You are loathsome, Peter. I have no respect for you—and that is something I never thought would happen." Edmund left Peter quite alone.

Edmund found Susan knocking on Lucy's door. He caught her arm and said, in a low voice, "I will go to Tumnus tonight."

"You mustn't," Susan said, nearly in tears herself. "Peter will know."

"Fuck Peter," Edmund hissed, and Susan looked distraught at Edmund swearing so. "I am not letting Lucy marry that idiot."

"I will go," Susan said suddenly, voice strong. "He won't suspect me. I'm far too well-behaved." She grinned mirthlessly at Edmund, who was looking at her with respect. "It's too bad, that he's such trash. I quite fancied him." Susan unlocked Lucy's door with the spare key, and Edmund and she stood in the doorway.

"Please go away," Lucy whimpered, face hidden in the pillow on her bed. It smelled like Mr. Tumnus and she thought she might be sick.

"Don't worry, Lucy," Edmund's voice was strong. "Susan and I will fix everything."

"It's impossible," Lucy wailed. "Everything is broken."

Edmund looked at Susan, who nodded.

"Have faith, sister," Edmund said, before he and Susan left her to her sorrow.

"Go tonight," he instructed Susan, voice low. "I think I can manage it so Peter and Noor will sleep_ soundly._"

In reply, Susan leaned up and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"I won't let you down," she promised.


	10. Let Love In

**Author's Note:** Well, it's finished. It's been a long trip and I'm so thankful to everyone who has stuck with this with enthusiasm and affection. You guys have no idea how much it means to me and I'm so glad to share it with you. A reminder: This story is an A/U; the ending wouldn't make sense in canon but thankfully canon and fandom can be mutually exclusive >:B Enjoy! Again, thanks to you all.**  
**

**Tumbling Down**

**Chapter Ten**

_Let Love In_

Hooves pounded the ground as a black-cloaked figure raced through the trees. She didn't have long. Her hood covered her hair, and the woods around her were black and still. The air was heavy and the moon was low in the sky as the stars crept overhead, speeding along to morning.

She arrived at his cave breathless, hoping to Aslan that he was there. She pulled the saddlebags off her tired horse, tied him hastily to a ring set in the rock; she banged frantically on the door. Her knuckles were near bleeding when he finally opened it.

He was pale and tired and obviously surprised to see her. She pushed back the hood and he quickly pulled her inside, fearing that someone had seen her.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed, voice low. He ran his hands through his hair, fretfully.

"Saving you," she replied briskly, going straight to his bedroom and fetching a carpet bag. She slung her saddle bags onto the stone floor. "I brought these. You must hurry and pack."

"Where am I to go?"

"You're leaving Narnia," she replied, "but you're not going alone." She pulled dresses and tunics from the saddle bags, thrusting them into Tumnus' carpet bag. He looked horrified.

"No!" He said suddenly, voice hoarse. "No. That's not going to work."

"Yes, it is."

"Don't you think anyone will notice? Tomorrow?"

"No, I don't," she replied. "It will work out. You must hurry. Bring whatever you need."

"I can't do it," he said weakly, sitting down in a chair as she continued packing, pulling books randomly from the shelves, piling pots and pans into the large bag. "I can't do that to Narnia."

"Look what Narnia is doing to you!" She exclaimed, put out. "No more nonsense. You're leaving tomorrow. You will know when. Wait at the lamp-post until my signal comes."

"And what signal will that be?"

"You'll know when you see it," she replied quickly, closing the bag tightly. "I must tell you—I'm not sure what will happen, when you leave."

"You mean—back to Spare Oom?"

"Back to Spare Oom. There is no where else to go."

"But I'm not from Spare Oom."

"That's why I'm not sure what will happen," she sighed. "I do so hope your body can live there. Well—it must. There is no other option."

"How do you know I can even get through?"

"You're not the only one who can read."

"Does Aslan know?"

She pursed her lips and remembered the hurried conversation in the dim stable.

* * *

_"Where are you going, on such a busy night?" His voice was gentle, and unmistakable. She froze, still saddling up her horse. She decided on the truth._

_"I am going to Mr. Tumnus," she said faintly. Her blue eyes shone in the dim light, as the lion watched her carefully. "I have to. I can't let this happen to him."_

_"You are very brave, my Queen," Aslan said quietly. "Where do you plan on him going, if your plan succeeds?"_

_"Back to England," she replied. "That's the only place safe."_

_"I don't suppose he will be a Faun there."_

_"I don't know what he'll be. But it's better than him living in fear for the rest of his life."_

_"Peter has promised amnesty."_

_"That doesn't mean Noor has, or any other fanatical citizens. The story will spread and harm will come to him."  
_

_"You are also wise," Aslan almost chuckled. "You seem to have this figured out."_

_"Please don't tell anyone, Aslan," she begged. "This is the only way."_

_"Of course I won't, dear one. You are an adult. What you do is your choice." He paused for a long moment. "You are doing the right thing," he said finally, nodding that she should finish tacking up her horse. "You are bringing happiness."_

_"I hope so," she replied. She closed her eyes briefly, and Aslan had gone.

* * *

_

"Yes," she said at last. "Aslan knows."

"And how does Peter not?"

"Peter and Noor are asleep," she said simply. "And Aslan promised he wouldn't tell."

Tumnus was silent for a long time. "I feel as though I'm robbing Narnia of its lifeblood."

"Don't," she said shortly. "Narnia existed a long time before, and I daresay it will exist a long time after." He sighed.

"All right," he said suddenly, his brown eyes bold. She looked up from the satchel. "I will wait at the lamp-post. You're sure I'll know your signal?"

She smiled. "I'm sure."

He stood up and he walked to her; he embraced her tightly.

"We'll be all right, Mr. Tumnus. Everyone will be all right."

"You're sure this is the best solution?" The words rang in her memory.

"Yes," she said firmly. "This is the best, and the only, solution."

"Very well," he said.

"You will be happy," she promised, "and I can't think of a more rewarding gift to give you for all the years you've been so kind."

He smiled gently. "I ought to give you a gift, too, then."

"There isn't time. I must get back to Cair Paravel."

He lifted her chin. "There is no one who cares about you more than I do, my Queen," he murmured, smiling at her. "You are truly good. Truly unselfish and good." She protested the flattery, but when he kissed her gently upon the mouth she could feel nothing but peace. Her final doubts fled her as she mounted the horse and watched Mr. Tumnus close the door behind her.

"This is right," she said aloud, and her smile lit up the morning more than the sun.

* * *

The day dawned bright and clear as Lucy rose from her bed, miserable and sore. Her mind reeled with dread. Looking through the locked window, she saw a trellis being erected below on the white beach. Her stomach sank low in her abdomen and she tried very hard not to swoon.

Cera arrived and helped her to bathe. Susan was nowhere in sight, though she had been asleep by the time Lucy finally laid down the night before. Lucy sulked in the hot, fragrant water.

Lucy stood wrapped in a silk robe as four nymphs brought in her finished wedding dress. Their fingers were pricked and bandaged; they must have worked all night to complete it. She stood numbly as they fitted her into it. She had to admit it was a masterpiece of a dress. Heavy cream silk hung in puffs and graceful dips, the skirt full and the train long. Edged with embroidery in sky-blue thread, it was so fine it was nearly frightening: she looked so foreign in the creamy, beaded bodice, tight and sleeveless and nothing like she usually wore. The veil was enormous, made of thick, fine-knit tulle, Lucy noticed. Susan had made a fuss over that—_Noor mustn't be able to see the bride's face before she's at his side, it's completely improper!_ Susan had insisted. She tried it on; she could see out of it but in the mirror her face was obscured. Her long hair was nearly hidden by the mesh in back.

"It is a beautiful dress," Cera and the nymphs breathed as Lucy lifted the veil from her face. "Oh, Queen Lucy, you're the loveliest bride!"

"Thank you," Lucy said dully. The nymphs and Cera left her to her thoughts; she heard the leaden slide of the lock as they shut her in.

Edmund rose when he saw Susan enter the throne room. Guests were arriving from all parts of Narnia and its' neighbors; Noor's sister had come just an hour before in a beautiful lacquered carriage. Edmund was already dressed for the wedding—in black velvet tunic and deep crimson trousers, he looked every inch the King. Susan pulled him aside.

"Everything is going to be all right," Susan said, reassuringly. Edmund didn't look convinced.

"I still don't see how this is going to work," he said, frowning heavily. She put a hand on his arm.

"Trust me, brother," she said quietly. "I'll see you at the wedding."

She came to her room and drew the key from her pocket. She pushed open the door and saw Lucy sitting on the bed forlornly, dressed in her wedding dress and looking like she might die.

"Oh, Susan," Lucy wailed, as soon as she had closed the door, "how will I ever do this?"

Susan sat down next to her and did not reply. Instead, she pulled her long black hair over her shoulder, studying it in the mirror across from them. She frowned gently.

"Lucy," Susan said, "do you think you could help me trim my hair?"

"What?" Lucy was stunned. "But Susan! You love your hair! It's your greatest beauty. What about all the love sonnets suitors have written about it?"

"It's just hair," Susan replied, smoothing it straight. "And it's been an awful nuisance. I'd like to look different, to impress any suitors who might come to your wedding today." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry to say I'm a bit jealous of you."

"Why?" Lucy laughed. "I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat."

"My hair?"

Lucy fetched her scissors from the sewing basket. Susan braided her hair quickly and judged herself in the mirror.

"I think about to here," she said, lightly touching the skin above her breasts.

"I can't imagine you with shorter hair," Lucy said, but she reverently picked up the thick black braid and began, hesitantly, to cut through it. It took a while, but finally the braid fell free from Susan's head, falling to the floor, coiled like a dying snake at their feet. Susan spread her short hair out across her back and Lucy evened up the ends.

"How do you like it?" Susan asked, examining it in the vanity mirror.

"It's quite a change," Lucy said, "but it doesn't look bad. You will certainly get the attention of any man you wish."

"Lucy," Susan said, drawing Lucy over to the bed and sitting down beside her. "I want you to be happy."

"I have resigned myself to a life of misery," Lucy told her sister, "but at least I will have my family with me."

Susan looked up, grim.

"Would you live with Mr. Tumnus if it meant leaving Narnia?"

Lucy considered this. "I want to say no, Susan. I want to say that Narnia is worth more to me than anything else in the world. But it would be a lie. I don't know how I shall live without Mr. Tumnus in my life."

"Well, then," Susan said, standing up again. "We'd best get you out of that dress."

"What?" Lucy looked confused. "But the wedding's in an hour, Susan."

"I know. You won't need to pack anything. It's all taken care of. Go to Lantern Waste, and find Mr. Tumnus. Make a life with him. Be happy, Lucy. It's what I've always wanted for you."

"But the wedding," Lucy said weakly.

"It's all taken care of," Susan said, and she thoughtfully picked up the veil and placed it on her head. The white gauzy material hid her face from view as she looked into the mirror. "Hurry. There's not time."

Lucy embraced her sister tightly. "Thank you."

"You'd do the same for me." Susan moved to the window and unlocked it, pushing it open. "Now go. My horse is already saddled and waiting outside the stable. No one will notice you, they're too busy preparing the wedding. Don't cry, Lucy. It's not goodbye—we'll meet again, in the next life if not in this one."

Lucy stripped from the dress in a flash and pulled on a plain cotton work dress. She pinned up her long blonde hair. With a smile to Susan, she slipped from the window. Susan stood for a long moment, her short hair blowing in the strong wind as she watched Lucy mount the standing horse and ride west. She sighed.

"I love you," she said quietly, before shutting the window and locking it.

It was the last time she ever saw Lucy.

* * *

Peter himself fetched Lucy from her rooms. She was sedate and didn't speak to him, though he told her how radiant she looked. He led her down to the large marble doors and looked out over the crowd. The beach was packed with thousands upon thousands of Narnians; visitors were obvious and laughter was plentiful. Aslan stood to preside over the marriage.

Noor stood beside the stone alter, dressed in deep green and looking handsome and exceedingly Princely. Edmund appeared at Peter's side, voice low.

"Susan will not come to the ceremony," he said, voice dark.

"What?" Peter was immediately enraged. "What excuse does she give?"

"She says she will not watch her sister marry someone she does not love." Edmund shrugged. "And no, I don't know where she is. Best not to delay the wedding to search for her, either. You know how stubborn she can be." Edmund was gone before Peter could reply, walking down to take his place under the trellis, strung with beach roses and morning glories.

"I wish you would speak to me," Peter said quietly to Lucy as the band began playing and mermaids, watching from the waves, began to sing a sweet ballad of love. "Please don't make this hard for me. It pains me to know how much you detest him, but there's no other way. Think of Narnia, Lu. You're saving Narnia for all of us."

Lucy did not reply, but she began walking down the white silk carpet laid out across the beach. She clutched a bunch of white lilies and beach roses in her hands. Peter had to hurry to catch up to her, and the two began a slow march down the beach amid the cheers of the guests. The music was beautiful and Peter wished that the day was happier for the Pevensies.

They reached the end of the carpet and Peter turned to kiss his sister.

"Please try to let love in to your heart, Lucy," he murmured.

"I will forgive you, Peter, if you will forgive me," was all that his sister replied. Peter thought her voice sounded strange; she ascended to stand before Aslan, and Peter had no choice but to take his place next to Edmund. He felt relief that at last she had spoken to him.

"Daughters and sons of Narnia, and guests from afar," Aslan addressed the multitude as the noise ceased. "Today we gather to celebrate the union of Narnia and Archenland; today, we celebrate the beauty of our Queen and the strength of Archenland's Prince Noor." A cry of joy went up and Aslan waited until the crowd quieted again. "Nothing is more joyous an occasion than a wedding. The celebration of love is to be admired most. There is much love here today. Love for our two glorious nations: Narnia and Archenland alike are to be admired and treasured, and clearly they both are. Love between two creatures: surely no one will protest to the love the Prince of Archenland and the Queen of Narnia have found."

Utter silence greeted this statement. Aslan smiled and continued.

"Since it is clear no one has objections to this union, we shall not dawdle in joining these two together. For the rest of their lives, they will love and protect our good homes as well as each other." Aslan turned to Noor.

"Prince," Aslan said in a gentle voice, "will you love, honor, protect and cherish this Queen, so lovingly standing before you? For the rest of your life, will you be hers alone?"

"I will," Noor said with a triumphant smile, and his sister came forward and handed him a slender golden ring. He took his new bride's hand and placed it upon her ring finger.

"Queen," Aslan said, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he spoke, "will you love, honor, protect and cherish this Prince, so lovingly standing before you? For the rest of your life, will you be his alone?"

"I will," said the Queen, taking a ring from Edmund and sliding it onto Noor's hand.

"Then, before all of Narnia and Archenland, I pronounce you married: may your love flourish until the world crumbles in." An enormous shout rose from the crowd, feet stamping and hands clapping. "You may kiss and seal your union," Aslan said above the noise of the crowd.

Noor took the veil in his hands and lifted it gently over his new wife's head; as he saw her face, he froze. His expression was none other than shock as he looked down at the woman he had married. Susan's gentle eyes looked back up at him.

"Well?" She asked, her voice calm. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

* * *

Hooves behind him alerted Tumnus that someone came. Fearing it would be guards sent from Cair Paravel, he threw himself into a stand of nearby trees just in time.

A horse broke its gallop and slowed to a stop beside the lamp-post. A young woman with blonde hair dismounted, her skirt plain in the bright day, and Tumnus grinned as he recognized the signal Susan promised to send. He emerged from the trees, pushing back the branches. She turned, and saw him. A smile spread across her face and she ran to him. He enveloped her in his arms and held her close, breathing in her scent deeply.

"I've missed you so," she whispered against his neck.

"It's only been a day," he said with a laugh.

"I feared it would be forever," she said, looking up, and he wiped her face.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting married?" He asked, voice teasing, and she reached out and slapped his arm. He went to the lamp-post and picked up the carpet bag. "Here are the things your sister brought for us."

"Where are we going?"

"Back to your home," Tumnus said gently. "Spare Oom."

Lucy looked afraid but he took her face in his hands, setting down the bag.

"Don't look so," he said gently. "As long as we are together, we can do anything."

She smiled and the two turned to look at the low stand of pines. "Through there?" He asked.

"Through there," she nodded.

* * *

"What foolishness is this!" Peter shouted, face red, looking horrified. "Susan! How could you do this?"

"Because I wasn't going to condone a marriage that wasn't right," Susan said simply. "And neither was Edmund. Prince Noor, forgive me, would be an idiot to marry Lucy. They have nothing in common."

Noor continued to stare at Susan, like he didn't understand.

"This is treason," Peter hissed, seeming unconcerned at the scene he was causing. The whisper of "Queen Susan?" was flowing through the crowd like electricity through water. Edmund looked grim.

"No, Peter, it's not," he said. "It's doing what is best for Narnia and for Lucy. She would never have been happy, and neither would Noor. And none of us would have ever had peace. The marriage would have ended badly, and relations would have suffered."

"But—but Susan can't get married," Peter protested.

"Why not?" Susan's voice was tranquil. "I'm far older than Lucy and far more ready to wed and start a family. I get along with Noor much better than Lucy ever has. At least I genuinely like him."

Noor was still startled, but at Susan's comment he smiled and flushed like a little boy might.

"This is preposterous," Peter growled. "No. This is not happening. Susan, go back to the castle at once."

"You can't tell me what to do, Peter," Susan said. "I'm not a child."

"The marriage is binding, Peter," Aslan said serenely. "They both have consented."

"That's so," Edmund pointed out. "And it's still a marriage to Archenland. It's up to Noor and Susan, Peter. Not you. You don't get to control people's lives. That's not being King. That's being God—and you're not God, Peter. You're just you. And there's nothing wrong with just being Peter." Edmund gently put a hand on Peter's arm.

"Where's Lucy?" Peter said suddenly, looking frightened.

"With the man she loves," Susan replied. Peter's face sagged. He looked defeated.

"You've lost your little sister," Edmund said. "We will not see her again. Do not lose the rest of your family."

"I never wanted it to be like this," Peter said weakly.

"Neither did we," Susan said. "But this is how it is, Peter. This is life and it's really happening, right now. And no one can change that. Not High King, not Aslan—not anyone." She looked up at Noor. "I know this is not exactly what we had planned. But would it be all right with you?"

Noor smiled at her, and finally spoke. "I think I'd like to have you as my wife."

"Well, then." Edmund announced to the stunned crowd. "We still have a wedding reception to attend!"

The crowd shook itself from its daze and commenced cheering again as Noor carefully bent down and kissed Susan on the mouth. And while it wasn't quite as nice as being kissed by the truly grateful Mr. Tumnus, it was special in its own way, and Susan learned that there are a world of kisses just waiting to be discovered.

Noor and Susan led the wedding party down the long white carpet amid cheering and shouting. Handfuls of sand rained down on them, and in Susan's dark hair Noor thought it looked just like stars.

* * *

"You're sure about this?" Lucy asked, holding tightly to Tumnus' hand. "We may never be able to come back."

"I am sure, my dear," Tumnus said gently, carrying the carpet bag in the other hand. They stood before the stand of pine trees, and a wind not from their world blew across their faces. Tumnus reached over and pulled out Lucy's hair pins. She looked to him and smiled, and the world broke open.

"Tell me a story," Lucy asked with a smile, as their feet found the wooden bottom of a wardrobe.

"Once upon a time," Tumnus began, as the two went tumbling through.


End file.
